All in Your Mind
by Loopstagirl
Summary: It had been six months since Gordon had made the ultimate sacrifice. Six months in which the rest of the family had tried and failed at moving on with their lives. Sequel to Out of Your Mind.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners._

_Yep, it's happening. One sequel to Out of Your Mind. Which does kind of need to be read first otherwise this isn't going to make a hell of a lot of sense._

_A huge thank you once again to Bee for beta-ing for me. Here's hoping the rest works better than this chapter did! Thank you!_

_Enjoy!_

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_1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, 1..._

The steady chant was pounding through Scott's head with the same intensity that his feet were hitting the sand. He was wearing the wrong sort of shoes for this type of running, he shouldn't have been travelling at this speed along the beach. There had been a storm only a few nights ago, the debris hadn't yet been cleared and rocks and other objects scattered the surface. But if he was honest, Scott neither noticed or cared. He had had another nightmare last night, and he knew the only way to make himself even begin to function again was to work up a sweat. He had to make himself gasp for breath in a way that signalled he had pushed himself too far yet again. It was the only thing that began to help.

But even then, Scott knew he was fooling himself. Just as he had been for six months now. Six months of working on auto-pilot, six months of not being able to move on. How could he move on, knowing that he had broken the promise that he had made not only his brothers, but his mother? He had let his brother down in the worst possible way, with the worst possible outcome. He hadn't been strong enough to help Gordon, and in the end, it had been his little brother who had found the hidden strength to defeat the Hood once and for all. Or, at least, to free himself from the clutches of the man and therefore make sure that none of the others were hurt again. It should have been Scott who protected the others, not Gordon. Yet he had known nothing, nothing at all. Not until a shocked-looking Virgil had told him that Gordon had knocked him out and slipped away into the night, that they had found the boat and nothing else. Brains had unhelpfully informed them that the currents in that part of the ocean meant there would be nothing to find.

Yet they all knew what Gordon had done. Thinking about it meant that Scott's concentration on his running was lost and he didn't notice his foot land awkwardly. His ankle gave way and Scott was sent pitching onto the ground with a cry of pain. One hand shot out to try and break his fall, the other wrapped around his midriff. He knew that running like this was dangerous considering it had only been a few months since he had had a knife driven through his stomach, but nothing else gave him the release that he needed.

Sitting on the sand, one arm wrapped around himself and the other clutching at his ankle, Scott yelled aloud in frustration. He was just so angry with everything, but most of all with Gordon. What had made him think that it was up to him to make sure they were safe? He had three big brothers for that. Although he had been unconscious for the last words that Gordon had uttered to him, somehow Scott knew what they were. He could hear them ringing around his head each night as he slept, his brother telling him that he wasn't allowed to blame himself and that he had to look out for the rest of the guys. Scott hadn't the faintest idea how Gordon had been able to ask that of him. Of course he was going to blame himself, if he had moved quicker, the Hood wouldn't have stabbed him and he would have been awake. Awake to stop Gordon from thinking of killing himself. Awake in order to stop him from leaving the infirmary and heading out here into the storm.

"You selfish bastard, Gords," Scott muttered, lying back on the sand now that he was down on the ground and blinking furiously. He kept his hand resting over his throbbing ankle, curling his leg up in order to do so. Virgil wouldn't be happy with him if he knew that he had been out here again. Then again, that actually depended on his brother noticing, something Scott wasn't sure would happen. It was hard to drag Virgil away from his room these days. If Scott thought that he was blaming himself for what had happened, he knew it was nothing compared to what the artist was feeling. Virgil was the only one who had been conscious when the thought had entered Gordon's head, and yet he had been unable to do anything. None of them had been able to do anything other than get hurt and make the situation worse for their brother. If Virgil hadn't been alone, Scott knew they would have been able to stop Gordon. But with him unconscious after being stabbed and John sedated with a shattered arm, there had been no one there to help.

How long Scott stayed lying on the sand, he had no idea. It had barely even been dawn when he had set out, not wanting to even attempt to sleep any more. But now the sun was high in the sky and he could feel the strength of the beams hitting him, warming his body even if his heart stayed frozen. Eventually, though, he knew that he had to move. Not because anyone would come looking for him, but because he needed to find _them_ in order to make sure that they were at least attempting the day. He didn't think Virgil would - the artist was even harder to get out of bed than before - but John would be up, and that would worry his brother. Jeff had already halved the rotation time after John had practically collapsed whilst talking them through a rescue after hiding the fact that he hadn't been sleeping. He hadn't even gone straight back up, his arm had seen to that. But whilst he seemed to crave the isolation that Five offered him, it was clear that John hadn't been ready to cope. Trying to tell him that had led to a somewhat furious argument until a compromise had been made. John could stay up there, but he had to check in at certain times during the day and the rotation was half the length that it had been before.

Limping towards the house, Scott tried not to put any more weight on his ankle than he had to, but at the same time, was trying to hide the fact that he was hurt. He had no desire to draw any more attention to himself than he had to. It was easier to try and sort the others out if they didn't think that he was struggling just as much. But in order to sort them out, he first of all had to get them to talk to him, something that was proving to be a challenge with Alan.

Alan had taken the risk of avoiding the Hood's men in order to get back home to help his brothers fight. While Tin-Tin had immediately disappeared off with Kyrano – it wouldn't have surprised Scott if she knew more about what had been happening than they had thought - Alan had come bursting into the infirmary, only to see Scott still unconscious, John arguing heatedly with Brains about getting out there to help Virgil and Jeff, and the two latter nowhere to be seen. Stuttering more than he had ever done before, Brains had broken the news. It was only John's quick reactions and shout of alarm that meant they were able to support the youngest before he hit the floor. Ever since then, Alan had both blamed himself for not being there, and turned his anger on the rest of the family. When Scott had tried to talk to him after he had regained consciousness, it had just ended with Alan yelling at him to leave him alone and the two had barely spoken since.

Their father was the only one who could get through to Alan, and Scott knew that he did so on a daily basis. Between checking up on each of them in his own way, it meant that Jeff didn't have time to look at the empty pool. It was nothing more than a puddle shielding the entrance to Thunderbird One these days.

Grandma was no better. The old lady never stopped moving these days, and even the once-hungry hoard of Tracys had to admit defeat on the amount she had been baking. Not that any of them had told her to stop though, for the one time Brains had even dared getting close to mentioning it, he had had a bag of flour thrown at him and Grandma had burst into tears. Scott wasn't sure whether the genius had set foot in the kitchen since. The only people who were looking vaguely like they were coping were Tin-Tin and Kyrano, yet Scott knew that was because they had each other and their own way of dealing with what had happened.

Finally, the house came into view and Scott let himself silently into the kitchen. As he turned around, he initially thought that it was empty and found himself blowing out a sigh of relief. He wanted to deal with them, not have them dealing with him. But his relief was short-lived as he caught sight of a haunted figure slumped on one of the stools. His head was resting on the table and there was a mug cradled in his hand even in this unusual position.

"Al?"

A grunt was the only sound that Scott received, but that didn't stop the pilot from crossing over and crouching down next to his brother. Compared to some mornings, any sound at all was a good thing. Alan's face was buried in his arms, and Scott reached out a hand, pushing back his brother's hair in order to make Alan look towards him. When Alan's expression was revealed, Scott sighed.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

Alan mutely shook his head and buried his face in his arms once more. Scott glanced at the mug and saw that it was half full, but one touch revealed it to be stone cold and the field commander eased it out of his brother's hand. Alan let out a muffled protest, lifting his head and glaring at Scott, but his brother just grinned at him. Well, he attempted to look like he was grinning, but it was almost an effort to even pretend and the look on Alan's face showed that he wasn't buying it for a second.

"It's cold." Scott wondered if his voice sounded as flat to Alan as it did to him.

"Maybe that's how I wanted it," Alan muttered, his head resting down once again. Scott felt his hand clench and told himself not to react. He had just had enough of Alan taking it out on him. Couldn't Alan see that Scott was suffering enough as it was without everything becoming his fault as well?

"Sure," he gritted out, using every inch of self control to try and make his voice sound light-hearted. He wouldn't let himself rise to it, not when he knew that was what Alan was after. Once they had begun to get through the shock of what had happened, that was when the fights had started. It didn't take Scott long to realise that Alan was only fighting back because it gave him a way of venting out his frustration over the fact that he hadn't been on the island and yet had still been used as some sort of blackmail material against Gordon. It also didn't help that it had soon been revealed that he was the last person Gordon had spoken to and yet he had been unable to do anything either. Yelling at the others seemed to help him somewhat, even if it was only making everything hurt even more. Placing the mug in the sink, Scott crossed back over the room and hooked his hands under Alan's shoulders, pulling him up.

"Wha' you doin'?" Alan slurred, his body hanging heavy and uncooperative as he tried to get out of his brother's hold.

"You need sleep," Scott said firmly, nudging him towards the door and refusing to let go. When it was clear that Alan wasn't going to go of his own accord, the pilot began dragging him. Alan needed rest, and Scott was determined that he was going to get it, even if his brother was being far from co-operative. Alan seemed to realise what he was doing – a clear sign that this was not the first time this had happened - and dug his heels in. Normally, Scott would have still been able to take him, but his ankle was hurting and he was exhausted himself. For the first time in Alan's life, Scott couldn't physically get the upper hand.

"Damnit, Alan, just move."

"No."

"You selfish..."

"Boys." Kyrano's voice was as cool and calm as ever, but it cut through to the hot-headed Tracys as if he had yelled it. Both men fell still, Alan looking at the floor but Scott gazing calmly at Kyrano as the man appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking disapproving. Scott wasn't going to just let the man put him in his place as if he was a child, or even Alan's age. His father hadn't been able to do that for years, why should Kyrano do it? Instead, the field commander just raised an eyebrow smoothly.

"Tell him he needs sleep," he announced, causing Alan to scowl angrily at him as Kyrano let his gaze flicker over the youngest.

"You both need sleep. Alan, go to bed, I know you were pacing all night, I heard you. Scott, sit back down, I need to see that foot."

"What?" both Tracys exclaimed, glancing at Kyrano. Alan then let his gaze flicker down to Scott's ankle whilst the older brother frowned at the younger. Both were trying to examine the other without letting on what they were doing. It had become something of a competition of late. Whoever looked the worse ended up with Grandma and their father on their case, meaning that were both were trying to find ways of dumping the other in it first. It might have been funny if it wasn't for the situation.

"Why weren't you in bed?"

"Why have you hurt yourself again?"

Yet again, they both spoke at the same time, causing Kyrano to roll his eyes as their gazes became heated with annoyance. He never would have thought that something could rip their normally close bonds so successfully, but without Gordon, the whole family was a mess.

"You wish your father to be involved?"

Alan scowled, shrugging off Scott's grip. He took one step towards the door before turning. Using the palm of his hand, he shoved Scott in the chest and forced him to sit down before his brother could regain his balance. Kyrano stepped in between them as Scott looked like he was about to rise again, but Alan disappeared upstairs before anything could be said.

"He won't sleep," Scott muttered as his friend came and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him, easing Scott's shoe off and causing him to wince.

"Assume nothing," Kyrano said offhandedly, causing Scott to frown at him. It was almost as if Kyrano was up to something, but Scott's attention was distracted when the Malaysian began to rotate his ankle. As Scott gasped slightly in pain before he was able to keep it in, the man shook his head.

"Do not run tomorrow and it will be well again."

"I have to run."

"No, you do not."

Scott opened his mouth to protest. Kyrano meant well, he knew that. But Scott simply had to run, there was no choice in the matter. If he didn't run, he was restless and irritable all day, especially if he hadn't slept well. They had been lucky in the sense that the last few months had been unusually quiet on the rescue front, but Scott knew that if he didn't get his release in the morning, then if something was called in, he would be no good to anyone. Yet before he could say anything, another voice cut in.

"Listen to him, Scott. I'm not having another son hurt." The exhausted tone could only belong to one person and Kyrano got up off the floor and headed towards the coffee machine as Jeff appeared. If Scott thought that he and Alan looked bad, it was nothing compared to their father, and the son stayed quiet as Jeff sat down.

"John?" Scott eventually muttered, knowing that his father would have been speaking to his immediate younger brother whilst he and Alan had been arguing.

"His arm has stiffened up again, I need to bring him home. Brains can go back up but John..."

"... won't have any of it?"

Scott finished, sighing heavily but grinning as Kyrano slid two mugs of coffee onto the table. Picking up one, he gave it a blow before cradling the cup, watching as his father did the same thing. "Dad, he needs to be up there. You know John, he'll just hide away if he is down here. At least with being on Five, he can't _not_ answer the communications. I've never been able to find all of John's hiding places. We're more likely to lose him down here than we are up there."

Jeff sighed, looking as if he was going to argue with his son, but instead opted for taking another sip of his drink.

"You're right, he can stay. I don't think he is sleeping properly though."

"Are any of us?" Scott muttered, rocking back on the chair slightly and giving a tiny wince as his ankle protested the movement. "Is Virgil up?"

"I don't think he ever went to bed. I was just about to..."

"I've got him." Scott said firmly, taking another large gulp of his drink before putting it down on the table and crossing the room. He hadn't handled Alan well, so maybe he could deal with Virgil with more success. Besides, his father looked exhausted and Scott had a feeling that his grandmother was about to arrive in the kitchen. He had no desire for her to know that he was hurt, for he knew that she would fuss far more than was needed for a twisted ankle. And right now, he didn't have the patience to deal with it. It was far better to make his escape and keep the peace for a few hours longer than hang about and open his mouth without thinking. Before he left, however, he pulled out a thermos and tipped a fresh batch of coffee in. If Virgil had been up all night, Scott knew that he would need something in order to bribe his brother to even talk to him.

Without another word, Scott began to head towards the silos. As he moved into the lounge, he couldn't help but glance up the stairs as he did so. The door to Alan's bedroom was still open, and his brother could make out the movement of not only one person, but two. Smiling slightly, he thanked Kyrano under his breath. Their relationship might be rocky at the best of times, but Tin-Tin was the only person Alan wouldn't throw out. Hoping that his brother would at least be able to get some rest even if he didn't sleep, Scott continued on his journey. There was only one place Virgil would go if he wasn't in his room, and it took Scott barely any time at all before he found himself staring up at the great hulk of Thunderbird Two.

To his surprise, there was no sign of Virgil there. Enough of the cleaning equipment was out to indicate that Scott had been right in thinking that he was down there, but that didn't make Virgil miraculously reveal himself to his searching brother. Cursing Virgil for picking today of all days for making him walk further, the pilot limped around the bulk of the 'bird, another destination firmly in mind. It was second time lucky for Scott, and he hadn't even opened the service door to the area where the pods were kept when he could hear the blast of music coming through. It was something heavy and metal that Scott couldn't even recognise, meaning Virgil was not in a good mood. Pushing open the door, Scott let his eyes slide straight to pod four. Sure enough, the ramp was open.

"Virgil? VIRGIL!" Even Scott's yells didn't do anything to attract the artist's attention. Tired and sore, Scott was in no mood to have to fight to make himself heard. Instead, his eyes fell on the small, portable sound system he could see sitting on the floor and he stomped over to it – even if the effect was lost somewhat by the way that he couldn't put his weight on one foot properly. Bending over, he jabbed his finger on the button with far more force than was strictly necessary and the music instantly stopped. In a way, the silence was more deafening than the noise. Not that it lasted for any length of time, however, for Virgil immediately appeared, his face like thunder.

Not saying a word, Scott just thrust the thermos at him, watching Virgil sniff it and seem to almost relax before he had even taken a sip. The artist turned and walked away again, yet Scott knew his brother. If Virgil was going to throw him out, he would have made that obvious the second the music turned off. Yet he hadn't, so Scott dutifully followed and found himself in pod four. His breath caught slightly as he looked at the empty runners, thinking of the Thunderbird that would occasionally occupy this space if she was needed. Thunderbird Four had had barely any attention since her owner had abandoned them all.

Virgil was sitting over to one side, his legs stretched out in front of him and the coffee cradled in his hands. Scott walked over and joined him.

"You're limping." Virgil spoke even as Scott was lowering himself to the floor, yet he hadn't looked directly at his brother.

"Am not," Scott immediately protested, not wanting Virgil to notice.

"Liar."

"I'm..."

"Fine, you're not limping, I don't care."

"Why didn't you go to bed, Virg?" Scott asked softly, ignoring the attempted insult. He knew it was just Virgil's half-hearted attempts to make him go away. Once the artist realised that his brother wasn't going anywhere, he would give up.

"Grandma told me I had to get out of my room. I thought you would be glad, you spend all your time trying to drag me out of it."

"She told you to leave mid-afternoon yesterday. She didn't mean not to go back. Have you been down here all night?"

When silence met his question, Scott knew his answer. Yet he still wanted to hear it from Virgil, so pushed the matter.

"Okay, okay, I've been down here all night, happy?" Virgil snapped, still refusing to look at Scott. Scott couldn't help but notice that Virgil's body language was softening though, and he was subconsciously beginning to lean against his big brother as he let the tension drain from his body and took another sip of coffee.

"Why, Virg?

"I started cleaning. This is the one part of Two he never kicked up a fuss about having to clean, even though as co-pilot he should have done parts of it anyway. Apparently it would contaminate his girl if the pod was dirty. I don't know, I just started tidying a few things in here. And before you know it, I was declaring war on every speck of dirt. I lost track of time and didn't..." Virgil's mouth snapped shut and he stared pointedly ahead, a flush beginning to work its way up his neck. Watching him closely, Scott had a feeling that he knew what Virgil was about to say. After all, it was the same reason why John hadn't been sleeping, why Alan had been pacing all night and why he had hit the beach before the sun had risen.

"Nightmares?"

"No."

"Now who is the liar?"

"Fine." The slumping of Virgil's shoulders told Scott that he had won that round. He gave his brother's shoulder a gentle nudge.

"What was it?" he asked softly, wondering if Virgil saw the same thing that he did night after night. Virgil sighed heavily, running a hand over his eyes and draining the rest of the coffee in one gulp.

"The night you were stabbed."

Scott knew what Virgil really meant. The night Gordon died. None of them could quite bring themselves to utter those words, it made everything sound so final. Somehow, not having the body meant that none of them had to acknowledge what had happened, even if it was tearing their family slowly apart.

"Each time I see it, I fight back, I do something in order to stop him from taking me down like that. Isn't it weird, my nightmares have happy endings? Gordon lives. Sometimes that is when I wake up and have to remind myself that it didn't happen that way, that he's... Other nights, I see it how it actually happened. Last night, I saved him, and then watched as the bastard came forward and killed us all one by one."

Scott didn't even realise he had moved his hand until he rested it lightly on Virgil's shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. The artist cleared his throat self-consciously, handing the thermos back to Scott just as something to do.

"So what about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look shattered, how much sleep did you get last night?"

Scott had to smile slightly, even if he shook his head at the same time. Virgil still hadn't appeared to have looked directly at him, yet was able to pick up all the signs.

"And if you are limping, then you've been out on the beach, even though we knew the storm had wrecked it. And you would only do that if you weren't sleeping."

"You're freaky, you know?" Scott muttered drily, but leant back on the pod wall. "Right, though. I was talking to John until midnight, if not later. I'm really worried about him. I don't think he is..."

"Scott, stop deflecting. We're not talking about John, we're talking about you. Don't try and change the subject."

"Fine. So I was talking to Johnny until late, managed a few hours, but that was it," Scott snapped. It was his turn to stare stonily ahead this time until Virgil squeezed his arm.

"You still just seeing his eyes?"

Scott mutely nodded. After he had practically woke up screaming one night, Virgil had discovered what it was that Scott dreamt about. It wasn't an event in the same way as Virgil, it was just the Hood's eyes haunting him. Those same eyes had stared at them from their own brother, and Scott had been on the receiving end more than the rest of them. No wonder it was what plagued him now, even six months later.

"You look like crap, you know that?" Virgil eventually muttered, turning to face Scott properly for a long moment, his eyes searching his big brother's face for some sort of sign that Scott was hanging on in there. He got a shadow of a smile back as a response.

"You don't exactly look much better."

"I'm peachy, as Gordon would say," Virgil mumbled, sitting back again and ignoring the stinging in his eyes. Neither said anything for a long moment, both lost in their thoughts.

"I want him back, Scott," Virgil eventually whispered, his hands balled into tight fists by his side and his jaw clenching as he tried to control his emotions. He didn't even know why he was trying; Scott had always managed to see straight through him anyway. But this time, his big brother offered no words of comfort, for they both knew that there was nothing he could say to make this better.

"Me too," Scott whispered back. There was nothing else he could do. If there was, Scott would have done it months ago. Instead, the whole family was falling apart, all wishing for the same thing that Virgil had just whispered out loud. But this time, even the biggest brother didn't have the power to fix it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the lovely reviews and support, especially to those I cannot respond directly to, it really means a lot._

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_Everything was in darkness. There was a cold atmosphere wherever he was, pressing down and making it feel like he was being suffocated. Voices could be heard floating through the darkness, but nothing was clear. He couldn't make out what was being said, yet got the sense that it was something urgent. Something, or someone, needed him, yet he couldn't move. Somehow, he was being held in this darkness, unable to get away..._

"Scott."

_But yet, there was something in the darkness. Something was glowing softly over to one side, and he found that he was automatically turning towards it. How he could be held in one place and turn at the same time, he had no idea. There was part of him that knew he was dreaming, yet he found himself unable to waken from the terror pushing in from each and every side._

"Scott, wake up. You're dreaming again, come back to me."

_He was moving towards whatever it was that was glowing, blinking as he tried to bring it into focus. It only took a few seconds before he knew what he was seeing, and felt his body recoil in horror. But as much as he might try to back away, he was being held in place; something was forcing him to look as the glowing object got closer and closer, slowly becoming more apparent._

_"_If you don't wake up, I'm getting Dad. _Scott!"_

_The object was still getting closer, and he knew that even if he turned away he would still be able to see it. Alone in the darkness, the only thing he could see was a glowing pair of yellow eyes glaring hatefully at him. His head tried to turn, his eyes filling with tears._

"_No..."_

_The eyes changed. It was no longer burning hatred he was seeing, but the look of someone who had been let down, failed in the worst possible way. _

_He knew who he was looking at now, it was..._

_"_Gordon!" Sitting bolt upright, Scott was barely aware of Virgil leaning back to avoid being head-butted from where he had been leaning over the older man in concern. He didn't ask what Scott had been dreaming about, he didn't ask if his brother was okay. Instead, he simply flicked the light on. Why he hadn't put it on the second he walked through the door, he didn't know. Yet if he was pushed, Virgil would have said that he didn't want the lamp to give out the same yellow glow as the thing he knew Scott to be dreaming about.

"Hey, dude, welcome back," he muttered tersely, running a hand through his hair and yawning. Scott shakily pushed himself backwards until he was leaning on the wall, propping up a pillow to support his weight before sagging back on it.

"What's the time?" He didn't respond directly to Virgil's words, just looked long and hard at his brother.

"Just after 11."

"Have you been to bed yet?" The way that Virgil was suddenly not looking him in the eye made Scott groan. "Virg..."

"I was on my way, honest. Then you were muttering again and I, well..." He broke off, looking slightly sheepish as he yawned again. "I reckoned you would prefer me waking you up to Dad hearing you."

Once again, Scott didn't respond, but offered his brother a small smile of gratitude. His father had enough to deal with and already was trying too hard to make them all happy again, despite the fact that he had the deepest sadness etched into his face as he did so. The last thing he needed to know was that Scott's nightmares were just as bad now as they were when he was still stuck in the infirmary with a gaping hole in his stomach.

Neither of the young men knew what to say now. They both wanted to tell the other to get some sleep, yet both were too afraid of their own demons to take their own advice. Who knew how long they would have simply sat there, avoiding each other's eyes, if it wasn't for the appearance of someone else in the doorway.

"Time for bed, Virgil, dear."

"Yes, Grandma." Six months ago, those words would have never have crossed Virgil's lips. He would have never allowed himself to be simply sent to bed like a child. But this time, he climbed to his feet, gave Scott a long look and headed out of the room. His older brother wasn't sure if he truly was going to go to bed, but he knew that his grandmother simply wanted him out of the room. Considering she seemed to start crying every time one of them even hesitated in doing as she said, Virgil had simply gone. Scott could only hope that he was going to get some rest. He obviously hadn't the night before if he had been down in the silos, and the Field Commander within the eldest was helpfully informing him that Virgil would be no good to him like this.

Scott could only watch as Virgil walked out. His grandmother was watching Virgil just as intently, but that didn't stop her from whispering something in his ear as he stooped to give her a kiss on the cheek, nor did it stop his answering grin before he vanished into the hallway.

"Did I wake you, Grandma?" Scott said quietly, curling his legs up as she came and sat down on his bed. As she passed over a mug, Scott took one whiff and smiled at the smell of hot chocolate. He knew without having to ask that, although she had gone to bed hours ago, she had also been up for a considerable length of time again. He also knew that her whisper had been informing Virgil there was a similar mug in his room.

Realising the little old lady hadn't actually responded to him, Scott tried again.

"Sorry if I disturbed..."

"Hush now, baby, that's enough of that nonsense."

Blowing into his mug, Scott had to smile, even if it was soft and no longer met his eyes the way it used to. Grandma started fussing around the bottom of the bed, straightening out the covers from where he had got them twisted up.

"Your brother always got himself so tangled up."

Scott's breath hitched slightly. He didn't need to ask which brother she meant.

"Your poor mother was in there five times a night untangling him again. He got himself all worked up if the blanket was twisted around his legs too much, yet it was him that got himself in such a state."

"Grandma..."

"And no one liked him to be tired. You thought that Alan's tantrums were bad? Nothing was as bad as his when he was all grouchy. Yet his pout was always so cute, made your father give in to anything he wanted."

It didn't escape Scott's notice that she was refusing to say Gordon's name. He was tired and feeling drained from both the day and the dream, and knew that if he tried to be the reassuring one, she would snap at him. It seemed to be helping her to cope to feel like she could look after the rest of them, but Scott knew that could only go on for so long. He had seen the muscle working in Alan's jaw only the day before when she had tried to flatten his hair down and knew that it was only their father's stern look that had stopped the youngest from saying anything. They all knew it was her way of dealing with the grief, yet Scott knew he was not the only one worried by the way she seemed to be getting worse. He had never thought of his grandmother as being old, she had always been the ferocious little lady that had them all cowering with the weight of her gaze. Yet looking at her now, he knew he was looking at an old woman.

"So you just drink up and get some more sleep."

"Yes, Grandma," Scott responded meekly, taking an obedient sip. Seeing that he was doing as he was told, Grandma stood up again. She leant forward, smoothed down Scott's sleep-ruffled hair, kissed his forehead and left the room. Her eldest grandson was convinced that he heard her muttering something about making sure that his father was not still on the video-link with John. Thankful that her attention had been distracted from him, Scott took another sip and leant back on the pillows with a sigh. Turning his gaze out of the window, he just gazed at the stars for a long moment before swinging his legs over the bed.

Satisfied that the voices he could hear from within his father's room meant that Grandma was distracted, Scott padded down the hallway. He knew that just because there wasn't a light showing from under Virgil's door didn't mean that his brother had actually gone to get some rest like he was supposed to. Silently pushing open the door, Scott peeked in and found his face softening. The artist didn't look like he had drunk any more of his drink than Scott had if the soft light spilling in from the hallway was indeed illuminating the right mug and not one left there from earlier. Stepping into the room, Scott automatically skirted around an easel and stepped over a box of paints in order to reach the bed. His hands found the covers the same way that his grandmother had done for him, and Scott tugged them up over his sleeping brother. Gordon might have been the one to get himself completely tangled up, but Scott knew that he could come back in the morning and Virgil wouldn't have moved an inch.

With one brother as comfortable as the eldest would ever be able to make him, Scott left the room. His entrance into Alan's room was just as silent. He didn't need to step over as many belongings to reach the bed, yet Scott knew Alan well enough to know that it was only this tidy because Tin-Tin had been in there that afternoon. No doubt Alan had refused to say a word so the girl had busied herself tidying things away until her boyfriend actually spoke up. He was lying across the bed in the same way as Virgil, but Scott knew instantly by his breathing patterns that Alan was not asleep.

"Al?"

There was a muffled intake of breath and Alan's head buried itself deeper in the pillow, but he didn't say anything. Scott sat himself down on the bed, leaning against the wall and stretching his long legs down the bed. After a moment of being ignored, he let his feet nudge against Alan's.

"Sprout?"

Alan still didn't say anything, but pulled his feet away. Scott simply kicked him again, knowing that if Alan gave a small reaction the first time, it would mean an explosive one would be on the way if Scott persevered. The fourth kick finally gave Scott the reaction that he was after as Alan rolled over and sat up, glaring at him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Scott shrugged innocently, causing Alan's glare to deepen.

"Couldn't sleep." There was no way that he was going to admit that he had been to sleep, only to suffer through yet another nightmare.

"So you thought you would wake me up?"

"Don't give me that, you weren't asleep."

"I can't be now, you've taken over my bed," Alan grumbled, crawling in a circle until he could navigate himself to sit the way Scott was, leaning up against the wall. If Alan noticed the way their shoulders brushed together, he didn't say anything about it.

"So..."

"Don't."

"You didn't know what I was going to say!" Scott protested, but Alan simply shot him a look.

"You were either going to ask why I wasn't yet asleep, apologise for this morning or ask me if I'm okay. So just don't."

How he managed to make himself chuckle slightly, Scott had no idea, but he did. The problem was, Alan was spot on. Night after night of ending up with one or more of his brothers had meant that Scott had become slightly predictable with what came out of his mouth. He couldn't help it, and it was because of that he knew that he had more sympathy for their grandmother than the rest of them. After all, he wasn't a lot better himself. Silence fell between the two brothers, but eventually, Scott glanced at Alan out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you?"

Alan didn't need to ask which question Scott was referring back to, but neither did he try and pretend.

"No." He sighed before refusing to meet Scott's eyes, glaring at the wall opposite. Scott had a feeling that Alan was about to speak again though, so didn't say anything. Sure enough, the youngest member of the family opened his mouth again.

"I don't remember much about when Mom died. I can remember enough to realise that Dad isn't in any of those memories, they are all you. I can remember wondering why she wasn't tucking me in any more, little things like that. But those memories don't span for six months. I don't know what it was like for you guys, especially you, Scotty, but I know that I began to move on in that time, as much as I could have at that age. But this... it feels like a gaping hole. And it's not closing with time. If anything, it's getting bigger, and it just...hurts, so much..."

Scott didn't say anything, just lifted his arm and draped it over Alan's shoulders. He hadn't been sure that his brother would let him, considering the way they had almost come to blows that morning, but Alan simply sagged against his side, picking glumly at the hem of his top.

"I wish I could say that it would get better. And part of me is still telling myself that it can't hurt like this forever. But it wasn't supposed to happen, not like this. Not to him. Not after everything he had been through; he didn't deserve this. Just know that you aren't feeling this alone, Allie. Why don't you try and get some sleep? I need at least one of you functioning come the morning."

Scott didn't actually expect Alan to nod in understanding, or make to lie back down again. He had thought he would have a fight on his hands, but wasn't going to complain, the kid was clearly exhausted. He made to slip off the bed again, but then realised that Alan hadn't just been fiddling with his own top. His hand was now gripping onto Scott's, his knuckles almost white as they gripped the material.

"Will you...will you stay here tonight?" Alan's voice was barely anything more than a whisper, and Scott was once again forcibly reminded of the fact that this was his younger brother, the baby of the family, having to deal with the same thing that he did - and there was nothing he could do to help. Knowing that there was no way that he was going to be getting any more sleep himself, not after that nightmare, Scott nodded, his movement lost in the darkness of the room.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

Alan's grip almost immediately relaxed as he wriggled around, trying to get comfortable. In the end, he ended up curled against Scott's side with his older brother's arm still draped over his shoulders.

As he felt Alan's breathing slowly even out as sleep took him, Scott sighed. Staring at nothing in the dim light, he found himself biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming with frustration. He had made a promise to keep his family safe, _all_ of them. Why was it that fate had torn that promise to pieces in front of his eyes and forced him to watch as everything he had known came unravelling around him? This time, Scott wasn't sure he knew how to piece everything back together. If he was honest, with the way he was feeling himself, he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to either.

TBTBTB

"You look like crap."

Scott had to smirk as he glanced down at the watch that was allowing him to have direct contact with his immediate younger brother despite the fact that he wasn't even in the house. After his accident the morning before, Scott had decided that he really needed to try and make the beach safe again. Not to mention it would give him the chance to get away from the atmosphere that had fallen over the house, and take him far away from his grandmother's fussing. Unfortunately, Virgil had seen where he was heading and had immediately forbidden his brother to run on his ankle. It seemed that Virgil had been awake uncharacteristically early and managed to talk to Kyrano about what Scott had done to hurt himself.

It seemed that Scott's promises that he was not going to run fell on deaf ears as Virgil insisted on accompanying him down to the beach. Alan had caught sight of them out of the window and hurried to join them, shooting Scott a grateful smile that he hadn't said anything to either their father or grandmother about the events of the night before. Somehow, it seemed to be something they didn't want to trouble the older members of the family about, not when it was clear they were feeling as helpless as Scott at making them feel better. Once Virgil had seen the state of the beach, he seemed to finally accept what Scott had been saying about going down there to clear up. Not that he was about to let his big brother do so, however. Instead, Virgil had practically forced Scott onto a boulder, told him to stay there and then started organising the clean up himself. Scott had been surprised how swiftly Alan had accepted that Virgil was in charge and the two of them had worked well at getting things moving. He had told Brains what they were doing, knowing the man had certain items they would be able to use with the clearing up but then found himself with nothing to do. Until Brains turned up, Scott knew that there was no way Virgil was about to let him move, even if it was to help. Not wanting to simply sit there, Scott had connected through to John.

"And you look just lovely yourself," he shot back drily. There was a time when they would have taken it further until none of their insults even made sense to anyone but themselves. But that hadn't happened for a long time now and if he was honest, Scott didn't see them getting it back any time soon. "How you doing, kid?"

"I had Dad calling every five minutes for three hours last night," John muttered somewhat bitterly, and Scott winced in sympathy. Jeff hated the fact that John had been determined to return to the space station. His oldest son couldn't admit to being any happier about the situation, but he knew that John had to be allowed to do what suited him the best. If he was honest, Scott didn't know how International Rescue was going to work unless someone was up there for at least most of the time, and they needed Brains down on Earth too often for him to take over manning the station. As long as they kept an eye on John, he was sure they could make it work. What their father didn't seem to realise, however, was the line between keeping an eye on John and paranoid checking. There was one thing that Scott knew that John wasn't about to tell him though. He only knew because he had heard his father heading down to the office at three in the morning.

"And you called him back."

John didn't have an answer to that, knowing he had been caught out. Jeff would only use the main screen at that time of night if John had truly needed him. The astronaut looked to one side, either actually adjusting a control or simply pretending to as he avoided Scott's gaze.

"Johnny..." The older brother wasn't going to let it go. He knew why his father was calling John almost every hour. But what he really needed to know was why John had returned the favour last night. After all, if he didn't know why it was that John had made contact at some crazy time in the morning (crazy even for John with his almost nocturnal at existence at times), then how was he supposed to try and make it better for his brother?

"Nightmare," John muttered, and Scott found himself wishing more than ever that his brother was down here with them. John had shut himself away after their mother's death, and Scott was terrified that he was going to do it again. He knew what he had told his father about John being more likely to open up if he had the safety of just being able to disconnect them, but it didn't mean that he had to like it. Sometimes doing what was best for his brothers didn't mean that it was the best thing for him. He would have thought that after all of these years, he would have got used to it, but apparently not.

"About?" Scott enquired casually, knowing that out of all of them, he had the most chance of getting John to talk. If the star-loving Tracy was going to talk, Scott was almost certain that it would be to him. The other person John had used to confide in was gone. Scott had a feeling he wouldn't find it as easy to get John to talk as he used to. But Virgil wasn't the only one who had discovered that Scott's sleep was far from peaceful. He knew that John would open up to him because Scott was returning the favour in a way that he wasn't even talking to Virgil about.

"His last day," John whispered, no longer meeting Scott's eyes. It didn't escape his brother's notice the way he was absently rubbing at his arm, though. Scott knew that it still pained him occasionally and there were times where he didn't seem to have full mobility in it either. But regardless of how it felt physically, Scott knew that John was always rubbing it when they were talking about Gordon. His lasting pain in that arm kept him connected to that day in the same way Scott's scar did.

"John? Johnny, look at me." Scott didn't say anything else until John had obeyed his request and actually looked up. Scott needed to be able to see his eyes in order to make his point. He had to know whether John was listening to him properly or just brushing off his words in the way his star-loving brother seemed to have.

"You did all you could," he stated firmly, knowing that they had had this conversation a hundred times and would probably have it a hundred times more and still not get any further with it. He knew that John no more believed him than he believed their father when Jeff told him that there was nothing he would have been able to do to save Gordon. Both he and John had been unconscious, and yet were still both managing to blame themselves for not doing something more to stop Gordon from going through with his plan.

"I know," John mumbled. Scott knew that he was just saying it, however, without really meaning it. The pair of them fell silent as John turned to check something up on Five and Scott watched their two younger brothers. Although both Virgil and Alan were too far down the beach for him to be able to see their faces, there was something relaxing about watching them work. It gave things a sense of normality, him overseeing their actions just the way he had done all their lives. In a way, Scott was glad they were too far away for him to be able to talk to them. It meant that he only had to offer one of his siblings reassurances that he didn't believe himself, and didn't have the awkwardness of being right next to them when they scoffed their disbelief at what he was saying.

"Hey, Scott?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think Mom found him?"

Scott almost fell off his rock as he stared at his watch. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say to that. For a long moment, he didn't answer. His eyes were pointing in the direction of his two earthbound brothers, yet Scott couldn't honestly say that he was watching them, not properly. His mind had gone blank, it was as if he didn't know how to speak, let alone find the right words.

But then he could have kicked himself. He didn't have to think about what to say because he knew. This was the one time that he didn't have to come up with some half-hearted attempt at a reassurance that he didn't believe in, because he knew the answer for sure.

"Yes, Johnny. She did, I know it. He's laughing at us right now for having to clean up the beach without him; you know how fast he always seemed to do it when his precious beach was touched. And Mom will be telling him not to laugh whilst somehow warning Alan to not take that next step." His eyes flickered back to his brothers as he spoke, and Scott found himself blinking. There was no way that his words could have carried that distance, but Alan made to step forward. Only to freeze, step slightly to the side and carry on like nothing happened. He had no idea he had just sent shivers down Scott's spine as he gaped, unable to believe what he had just seen.

"Scott?"

"What?" he breathed, eyes still locked on his youngest brother and finding himself wishing that something else would happen. Anything that would give him another sign that their mother and Gordon were truly with them, something that proved he hadn't just imagined the whole thing. Six months ago, he wouldn't have even let himself think like this, but after everything that had happened, he found himself beginning to accept things that had no other explanation.

"I think you might want to call the guys back." There was a distracted note to John's voice, but not in the same way as before. It wasn't because he was trying to stop Scott from asking questions, but because he was being distracted by something else.

"Why? They are having fun." Strictly speaking, Scott knew that wasn't true. But maybe being out there, hearing the ocean crashing in their minds would be what they needed to try and clear their heads slightly.

"I've got a call coming in."

Scott felt the colour draining from his face as he stood up and waved the other two back. Only Virgil saw him, but he quickly caught Alan's attention and the pair of them jogged over.

"What is it?" Virgil asked quietly, his eyes scanning his big brother's face as he tried to search for answers. Scott looked resigned and slightly put-out even as he disconnected from John. This was not what they needed right now, but it wasn't as if the rest of the world got put on hold because their lives had come crashing down.

"We've got a rescue."

Those words once would have sent a thrill through him, put a gleam in Virgil's eyes and a smile on Alan's face. Now, however, Virgil just nodded softly as Alan's gaze settled firmly on the floor. International Rescue might have continued, but the rescuers were hardly the same people they had been six months ago.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much once again for all of the reviews and for Bee for being an amazing beta. _

* * *

Much as he didn't particularly want to be flying to a rescue considering none of the boys were quite up to it, Scott had to admit there was something calming about steering his 'bird over the tricky terrain. There had been a flood near the coast, ironically close to them, and Scott could only hope that it meant they would be home quickly. The rescue should technically have been a straightforward one and, seven months ago, it would have been. Four would be sent in to plug where the water was coming through, whilst he and Virgil would set about making sure that everyone was safe.

But there would be no Gordon to expertly steer the submarine into the gap this time. He knew the argument was still raging on Two as to who would be the one to man their smallest craft, and Scott just left them to it. He was fully aware that should he get involved, the fight would just be even more heated, and at least one of them needed to have their head on straight when they landed. As Field Commander, the decision ultimately rested with him, meaning that if the squabbling pair hadn't sorted it by the time they arrived, he would pull rank. But he hoped that it wouldn't come to that, that his brothers would be able to work off their excess tension whilst airborne and have the situation resolved by the time they came in to land.

Muting their voices from over the link whilst he brought Thunderbird One down, Scott sighed even as he ran through the post-flight checks. He was going to have to have his wits about him even more so than usual on this rescue. Not only was there the normal tension of the fact they were racing against the clock to make sure everyone was saved, but this was the first time since Gordon's death that they had needed Four. He knew that was why his brothers were arguing so much, they too were feeling that not only were they a team member down, they were a brother short. Every time they were given the opportunity to try and move on with their lives, something would happen that made them feel Gordon's absence to an even greater extent than before.

By the time the giant green machine came into view, Scott had Mobile Control set up and had made contact with the locals. From what they could tell him, it seemed that there had been a crack in a dam for a while now, but rather than sorting it out, the authorities had just left it. After some heavy rain, the pressure had become too much and that small crack had all but exploded outwards, sending a rush of water down to the small town below. It was situations like this that Scott hated. They could have been saved a trip if someone sitting in an office somewhere had just signed the damn piece of paper that would have meant the crack could have been fixed before it came to this. Luckily, there had been no loss of life as of yet, and the school party they knew to be trapped when the frantic call had come in had been rescued by the local services.

One of the locals shrugged apologetically.

"I'm not sure you boys are needed here now, you know."

"We'll fix up that leak before we go," Scott promised, one eye on the situation in front of him and one on the sky as Virgil came into land. He had to hand it to his brother. Two might not have been the most graceful of the 'birds, but Virgil handled her like a dream. "We're here now, we may as well do something to help."

The man nodded, offering more apologies until Scott gave him a job to do. It didn't truly need doing, but it would get the man out of his hair and allow him to talk to his brothers. It only took Alan seconds to join him at Mobile Control, and Scott had a feeling Virgil had thrown him out. Gordon had never appeared until his brother did, meaning Scott knew they used to go through the post-flight checks together. The drawn look on Alan's face just confirmed Scott's suspicions that their fight had nearly got out of control. Scott didn't say anything other than to greet his brother, not until Virgil arrived. Maybe it was good there was no real threat for their first rescue involving Thunderbird Four; it would mean that people's lives weren't at risk as they struggled to control their emotions. Scott knew he would be lying to himself if he said that this was just another rescue. It wasn't, and they all knew it.

"What's the situation?" Virgil's quiet voice cut through Scott's thoughts, and if he was honest, the Field Commander was grateful for the distraction. Thinking about Gordon whilst being on a rescue could potentially do more harm than good.

"The dam has cracked; we'll take Four to patch it up. Apart from that, it's just a matter of helping them clean up whilst we wait for whoever takes Four to be done. Talking of which, have you two decided yet?" His glare caused Alan to drop his gaze sheepishly, studying his feet as he shifted his weight. Virgil, however, just met his big brother's look head on, knowing full well how to handle Scott.

"What if we both go?"

Scott shook his head vehemently.

"No way. The only way I would allow two people in there right now is if I was one of them. With a lack of people to actually rescue here, everyone is going to be more curious than scared, meaning I'll be needed up here for security purposes."

"I can do that." Alan finally managed to look up again, only to feel a flush working up his neck at the look Scott gave him.

"Are you used to manning Mobile Control when there is nothing to hold your attention in the same way as on other rescues?"

"No, but..."

"But nothing. I'm not risking security by having it be you; I have to stay up here. After your performances on the way over, I'm not having you two in an even smaller space together with no way out. Did you come to a decision or not?"

Scott was barely aware that he hadn't spoken to them like this for a long time. He had tried to be their big brother more often than not while at home over the last few months, but it had been years since he had truly been made to act the Field Commander on a rescue. Normally, his brothers knew what was expected of them and could just get on with their job without him having to do anything. Yet normally, there was another member of their team present with an easy smile and a quick comment that destroyed any tension. Sighing, Scott tried to make his face soften.

"Well?"

Alan glanced at Virgil, who stared stonily back at Scott. Somehow, Scott got the feeling that it wasn't only their younger brother that Virgil was now annoyed at and made a mental note to get John to talk to him later in order to make sure that the artist was coping.

"I'm going," Virgil muttered, his eyes slipping past Scott and glaring at something over his shoulder.

"You're sure?"

"Damnit, Scott, you wanted an answer, you've got one! Yes, I'm sure. I've had more experience dealing with Four as it is my 'bird that carries her. Alan's only been for test runs, that sort of thing. Now can we please just get on with it?"

"Alright, alright." Seeing that this was clearly getting to Virgil, Scott held up his hands in mock surrender, not wanting things to escalate further than they already had. How could a rescue so simple be so stressful?

"Alan, go and clear the area, you know what to do. Virg, come and take a look at the resources we've got, I think they even have a picture of precisely where the leak is."

"F.A.B." Alan didn't waste any time, but immediately hurried off. Scott could only hope that his faith in the youngest member of their team meant that Alan would be prepared to forgive him later.

"A picture? You want to show me a picture?" Virgil muttered drily, and Scott grinned.

"He fell for it," he said easily, stepping to one side in order to let Virgil move in closer. As soon as his brother was in reach, Scott let his hand rest on his shoulder. Virgil was right, there was no picture, there were no resources. He just wanted a reason to keep Virgil at Mobile Control on his own for a moment, and it was the first thing that had come into his head. Alan had run off happily enough - what his brother didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Are you sure that you can do this, kid?" Scott asked softly, turning Virgil so that he was looking his brother straight in the eye. He didn't mean whether Virgil could man Thunderbird Four and deal with the crack, he had every confidence that the younger man could handle that. After all, Virgil was right, he did have the most experience with dealing with the sub out of all of them. He was referring to whether his brother could handle knowing that it should have been someone else taking the lead here. Scott was asking whether Virgil was okay to go and sit in Gordon's seat and do their brother's job.

Virgil seemed to know what Scott was asking as he glanced up at his big brother, and visibly took in a breath before nodding. "Yeah."

"You sure?" Scott wasn't convinced; that wasn't the tone he was used to hearing from Virgil on a rescue. His brother sounded almost lost, and Scott found his hand tightening on his shoulder. Virgil squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, a clear sign that he was pulling himself together before answering.

"Yes. I'm fine, I can do this. For him." The last part was added on so quietly that Scott wasn't even sure whether he had heard it or not. But when he took a proper look at his brother, he could see the determination burning brightly in Virgil's eyes. It didn't matter what Scott said now, Virgil had made up his mind. He was going to do this, and he was going to do it well. For Gordon.

Scott knew that they had to make this rescue work in order to be able to get anywhere. If none of them could handle the strain of using Four without Gordon, then something had to be done. This wasn't just about their family right now, it was about International Rescue, meaning it was potentially about the whole world. If they couldn't pull themselves together enough to pull off a simple rescue, then they were no good to anyone.

"Good man. Go on, go and get in position."

"F.A.B."

Virgil shrugged off Scott's hand and made to walk away. His big brother watched him for a long moment before calling after him. Virgil was still in earshot and turned, a frown on his face as he glanced back at Scott questioningly. _What?_ his expression was saying, something between exasperation and fondness being shown as he looked towards his brother. Scott gave a small grin, shrugging his shoulders. He didn't quite know what he wanted to say, Virgil would know how much this meant to all of them. They were relying on him as both International Rescue and a family, yet he had known this when he volunteered to be the one to go down. Suddenly, Scott's grin turned more genuine as understanding dawned on him. Virgil had volunteered because he hadn't wanted Alan to feel the pressure of trying to make this work for Gordon's sake. They were never going to stop protecting their younger siblings. If they messed this up, they would feel it more than any normal mistake, so the artist had made sure that it was his shoulders the pressure landed on, not Alan's.

The artist was still looking back at him in confusion, so Scott opted for nodding his head softly. "Good luck."

Virgil dipped his own head back in response, smiling gently at his brother. They both knew there was so much unsaid between them. But, as usual, they both knew what the other meant, knew that they were both thinking the same thing. The words didn't need to be said out loud for them to hear them.

No sooner had Virgil disappeared back into his 'bird to prepare himself for what he was about to do, than Alan reappeared.

"How were your pictures?" the blond asked with a teasing note in his voice that made Scott glance at him. There was a smile on Alan's face that didn't quite reach his eyes, and Scott knew in one look that Alan had known all along there would be no pictures. He let his arm drape around his brother's shoulders.

"Informative," he answered almost truthfully. After all, it had given him a clearer picture of why Virgil wanted to do this. Alan seemed to hear the sincerity in Scott's voice for he suddenly leant against the older man. Scott glanced around, but people were too far away or were too busy watching Thunderbird Four sliding out of her sister machine to pay them much attention.

"What happened in Two, Al?"

Alan stiffened, but Scott didn't let him pull away. Eventually, the younger man relaxed and shrugged again.

"I think we both wanted to prove ourselves to Gords," he finally muttered, and Scott found that he didn't know what to say. He just gave Alan's shoulders a squeeze, feeling himself swallow hard as he did so. What did Alan want to hear? Wondering how their fight had finally come to an end, he glanced down at his brother. Virgil might have wanted to go in order to protect Alan, but the younger ones could be just as bad as the elder.

"Are you okay with Virg going?" He needed to know whether this rescue was going to have bigger implications than even he realised. What he wasn't expecting, however, was for Alan to suddenly huff a laugh, his smile finally reaching his eyes.

"Rather him than me to be honest. Gordon would haunt me forever if I scratched his paintwork. Better Virgil takes that risk than me."

Scott found himself smiling, ruffling Alan's hair as he moved into position in order to monitor Virgil. That was the first time he had heard Alan mention their brother that casually. Maybe, instead of tearing them down as he believed this rescue would do, it would be what was needed to accept that whilst Gordon might have gone, he was still with them in his own way.

TBTBTB

Any enthusiasm for the rescue Scott might have had was quickly crushed. Once he had got home and cleaned up, he was just in time to help a still-pale Virgil onto the couch. Their father immediately came forward, his hand resting on the back of Virgil's neck in a way they all knew and appreciated. Scott knew that Virgil and Alan had been arguing just as much on the way home as they had out there, only this time it was Alan trying to make sure that Virgil was fit to fly. If he'd had his way, Scott would have travelled home with Virgil himself, but he didn't trust Alan in his own 'bird. Not to mention he thought it was better for him – the Field Commander – to be the one to inform their father that it hadn't gone as smoothly as they had anticipated rather than giving Alan that job. He had had enough arguments for one day, and he had a feeling that was what would happen if Alan delivered the news.

"You're okay, Virg, you're okay," Scott murmured softly as he sat down on the sofa next to his brother, rubbing a hand up and down his arm even as Jeff backed away to sit at his desk once more.

"What happened out there?"

Normally, when something had gone wrong on a rescue, his tone was sharp and demanding, wanting, _needing_, to know whether they were the ones accountable. Yet this time, he had nothing but compassion in his voice as Scott glanced at Virgil once again. It was clear that his brother wasn't about to speak, and Alan wasn't quite sure what had happened. Neither was Scott if he was honest, but he knew something had to be said.

"The situation was pretty much under control when we got there..." he began, talking the family through what had happened up until Virgil had reached the dam. Once he was in the water, they had all breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that even if he wasn't as smooth as Gordon, Virgil knew how to control the sub. He had everything in position, the nozzles on Four extended, full of Brains' amazing solution that could plug any gap...

What happened after_, _no one was quite sure. It was certainly no one's fault, of that Scott was certain. In fact, he had made that point more than once to his father before the other two got home, making sure that nothing was blamed on Virgil. It had just been sheer chance that it had happened, and the rescue had been emotional enough as it was without unnecessary blame being passed around. In a way, Scott blamed himself, adamant that Mobile Control should have picked up some sort of warning sign. He had been monitoring the dam ever since their arrival, but there hadn't been the slightest hint of a warning before another section had suddenly given way.

Luckily, because of the earlier tidal wave, the town was reasonable safe, there was no one left in the areas that were affected the worst and Scott had set up Mobile Control on the high ground opposite in order to keep an eye on things. Their natural curiosity meant that anyone remaining in the area had been up with the two members of International Rescue. Leaving Alan to keep the civilians out of trouble, Scott had then spent a frantic few moments trying to patch through to Virgil. He had heard the stone give even from the distance he was at, and sheer terror had clouded his mind when Virgil didn't respond.

By the time his brother answered, Scott had almost halved the distance between them after telling Alan to keep an eye on things around Mobile Control. Unlike his enthusiasm before, Alan had merely nodded. Scott could see the tension in his face that Alan was trying to hide. They didn't want anyone to know they had lost contact with a member of their team. After letting out a cry of delight at hearing Virgil's voice, Scott had swiftly demanded to know what happened.

The Field Commander paused in his narration, glancing between his brother and his father once more. Virgil returned his look out of the corner of his eye and sat up a little straighter. They both knew that it was him who had to say this part. Scott couldn't give an accurate account of what had happened simply because he hadn't been there. There was a long pause, before Virgil spoke. He described how the rocks had burst forth from the dam with no warning at all, striking Thunderbird Four. The machine was designed to deal with the impact coming from things a lot larger than a few rocks, so Virgil had known there was no fear of anything penetrating the hull.

Yet some of the pieces had been large enough to cause the small sub to be spun as Virgil grappled with the controls, and for one heart-stopping moment, he thought he was going to crash into the remaining section of the wall and have the whole thing come down on him. A sharp tug of the controls had sent him spinning in the opposite direction, but the artist had caught his head on something as the craft spun, and the next thing he knew, Scott was calling his name.

Both men shuddered as they relived those moments, and Scott's hand had come to rest on Virgil's shoulder with neither of them knowing how it got there. Scott finally finished by saying how Virgil had managed to get back to the shore and the town had told them to leave the dam as it was, adamant that this was going to make the local authorities finally do something about it. They had been thanked and pretty much sent on their way, all far more shaken up by what had happened than they would admit.

"Go and get cleaned up, then head towards the kitchen. Your grandmother has been baking, and you know what she says about something sweet being needed for shock." Jeff stood up after he had spoken, moving away and staring out of the window, his hands resting in the small of his back. Knowing the man was thinking through worse case scenarios over what could have happened, Scott pulled Virgil to his feet and gave him a nudge towards the door.

"Al?"

"Coming." Alan swiftly joined them and Scott accompanied the pair up the stairs even though he had already completed the first part of his father's order. He waited until he was sure Virgil was in the shower before letting himself into his brother's room, dropping down on the bed whilst he waited. Flicking a button on his watch, Scott rolled onto his back.

"John?"

"How is he?"

Scott had to smile despite the fact that his heart still felt like it was pounding at a hundred miles per hour. John had been involved with the rescue the same way as usual and had heard the instant things had taken a turn for the worse. He had also been the one in Scott's ear, trying to keep him calm as Scott attempted to get through to Virgil.

"Okay, shaken up though. If something like that happened when he was in Two, he wouldn't have batted an eyelid. I think it was because he was nervous about handling Four anyway, and then for that to happen..."

"We still don't know why we got no warning?"

"None at all." Scott sighed, wondering if Brains' technology had let them down. Realistically, he knew that it had all just happened too fast in order for any signals to have been received. Even if Scott had known the dam was about to break, he was fully aware that Virgil wouldn't have got out in time anyway.

"I should have never called through that rescue."

"John..."

"No. We weren't ready for a rescue with Four."

"Johnny, you know we talked about this," Scott muttered, staring up at Virgil's ceiling with unseeing eyes. "We all said that we could handle it, and maybe things went a little wrong, but at least there weren't lives at stake the way there could have been." Scott could picture John running his hand over his face as he sighed, knowing that his brother was both hearing and understanding what Scott was saying. But just like his big brother, it didn't mean he had to like it.

"It shouldn't have been Virg."

"I know," Scott responded softly. "It should have been me."

"No, I..."

"I know what you meant, John. It shouldn't have been one of your younger brothers, you overprotective brat. You know that only leaves me, right?"

There was silence on the other end for a long moment before John let out a short laugh, causing a smile to emerge on Scott's face. He knew that John hadn't thought that chain of thought through properly; that that hadn't been what he was implying at all, yet it was the only solution left.

"What did you call for?"

"Maybe I wanted to tell you that Virg was okay?"

"Try again. What did you call me for, Scott?"

Knowing that he had been caught out, Scott sat up. The water in the adjoining bathroom had stopped, meaning he knew that he didn't have long until his attention was diverted by another younger brother who needed him.

"Can you talk to Al for me?"

"Why can't you?"

"If I demand he tells me what happened in Two on the way out there, it would make it the second time I pulled rank on him."

"You went Field Commander on them?"

"I had to, Johnny. They wouldn't stop arguing the whole way out there, both fighting over who was going to take Four. They had resolved it by the time they got there, I'll give them that, but considering it was such a short flight, listening to them... I wasn't sure who was going to be thrown out of the airlock first."

"I'll talk to him."

Knowing that John was smirking, Scott shook his head fondly and climbed off the bed.

"Thanks. Oh, and John? Keep me posted."

"F.A.B. Good luck with Virg." John signed off before Scott could say anything, and the older brother had to laugh. John would have known that Scott wanted him to take Alan because he wanted to talk to Virgil. Luckily, he didn't have to wait very long before his brother emerged, wearing only a pair of shorts and running a towel through his hair. He barely even blinked at seeing his older brother in his room even as he tossed the towel over his shoulder and back onto the bathroom floor.

"What?"

"Oh don't give me that, I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I'm fine." Virgil's response was so waspish that Scott knew instantly his brother was lying to him. How he thought he could get away with it considering it was Scott he was talking to, the pilot had no idea, but the oldest brother sat back down on the bed.

"I'm not moving until you tell me, you know that, right?"

Virgil glanced over at him and looked for a moment like he was about to argue. But then he seemed to truly look at the position Scott was sitting in and knew that his brother wouldn't be budging any time soon. Abandoning his quest to find a shirt, he sat down heavily next to him.

"Gordon would have cleared it. He would have pulled off some miraculous stunt that would have given you a heart attack and you would have spent all of the debriefing yelling at each other over it. But he wouldn't have been knocked out, and his 'bird would have barely got a scratch, let alone a dent."

"You know that once Brains has worked his magic, she won't have a dent."

"Don't try and make me feel better, Scott, it won't work."

"Virg..." Scott wasn't sure what he was going to say as he took a proper look at his brother. It explained why Virgil had been so shaken up. "You did him proud, you know."

Virgil's snort showed precisely what he thought of that statement, but Scott shook his head stubbornly.

"I mean it. You told us how close you got to the dam when you were out of control. I had something similar like that in a training demo. I smashed straight into it, and according to my statistic readout, I would have killed myself if it had been real."

"You're making it up."

"I'm not." Scott shook his head earnestly, needing his brother to believe him on this. "Ask John. Gordon made him record the whole scenario and make a copy for him as well as for the archives. He didn't let me live it down. I thought that I would get him back when it was his turn in One's stimulation and programmed it to fire rockets at him. Cheeky tyke dodged them all, didn't he?" There was a small smile on Scott's face as he lost himself in the memory. Just like Alan earlier, he was finding that he truly wanted to say this, not just to cheer Virgil up. "And I don't even want to know what happened on Alan's simulation, only Gordon looked almost green from whatever the kid had managed to do. You did good out there, Virg, trust me."

"I felt him," Virgil muttered, his hands playing with his bedspread rather than looking Scott in the eye. "It was like he was there, telling me which way to turn. I don't think I would have known otherwise. I think he saved my life."

"You know Gords, he wouldn't let you mess up his girl. Now come on, I smelt Grandma's cookies. Dad's right, we need something sweet for the shock."

"You're not in shock though," Virgil said with a smirk but let Scott pull him to his feet.

"No, but I might be. She doesn't need to know that." Giving Virgil a nudge towards the door, Scott frowned at the back of his brother's head. He wasn't sure whether he should be worried or not about how easily Virgil seemed to have accepted that he had done all he could, but Scott knew not to push it for now. Instead, he just grabbed a shirt and threw it at the younger man before falling into step and joining him in travelling towards their favourite room in the house.

If nothing else, Grandma's cookies always did work wonders, whether they were in shock or not.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you so much once again, especially to those who I cannot respond directly to. Huge thank you to Bee once again as well._

* * *

The almost-disaster of the rescue had shaken up everyone more than they would care to admit. Whilst it was perfectly clear that they weren't coping as a family, knowing they were missing one of their own, Scott knew they hadn't all been thinking along the same lines when it came to International Rescue. They had always been forced to put aside their personal feelings while on a mission, and they had all assumed that they would be able to carry on because of that. But this had proven otherwise. Not only because of the fact that Virgil had only just been able to control Four - and if it had been any of the others, they would have crashed. That was worrying, but it was something that they could work on, improve and make sure didn't happen again.

Sitting out on the beach, perched up on a boulder so he could gaze out to Gordon's beloved ocean, Scott sighed. The rescue had been over a day ago, and yet he couldn't get it out of his head. It wasn't the machinery that was the problem. It was them. Virgil's and Alan's argument was playing heavily on his mind, and he knew his distraction was showing more than normal. It was why he had isolated himself out here. Alan avoided this beach like the plague these days, and Virgil didn't like coming out here. John, on the other hand, was nearly always on it when he was at home, claiming it was the last part of the island Gordon had been on so therefore allowed him to be closer to his brother. But with John up in space, he could almost guarantee that he would be left alone, and right now, that was what Scott needed. He had to make sense of what had happened out there.

They had all claimed they would be fine, yet the argument showed that they were all deluding each other, possibly even themselves. Virgil and Alan had fought the whole way out there because they both wanted to make sure that they didn't let Gordon down. Was that going to be something that happened every time they needed Four? Or even every time there was a rescue that needed a co-pilot for Virgil, the role that Gordon normally took unless the situation dictated otherwise? As their Field Commander, Scott couldn't afford to have the team this disjointed. It was okay this time because they had worked it out by the time they reached the rescue zone, but what would happen when they didn't? When Alan's temper got the better of him and Virgil's determination meant he wouldn't back down? Scott had seen first-hand how heated those arguments could get, and whilst – as their brother - he could see where they were coming from, as their Field Commander, he simply couldn't allow it to happen.

Sighing heavily, Scott stared with unseeing eyes out to the ocean, wondering if the soothing motion of the waves would calm his wild thoughts down. He was so lost in the movement that he jumped violently when his watch suddenly vibrated. Rolling his eyes, Scott knew that this shouldn't have come as a surprise.

"Virg ask you to find me, Johnny?"

"Um... hey?"

"And they call me the protective one. What's up?"

"Me." The joke fell flat. It was something that they had been saying since John took his first rota, and normally it could raise a smile just because of how repetitive it had become. It was a standard response, and something was wrong when it wasn't said. Yet this time, Scott couldn't bring himself to smile.

"Okay, yes. Virg is worried; he says that he hasn't seen you for hours and he knows you took what happened at that rescue pretty badly even if the others think you have shrugged it off. He seemed to know that you would be out here, but as he pointed out, you can't run away from me."

"I can cut you off," Scott responded drily with no real heat in his voice. He should have known that Virgil would have picked up on his mood. He had left the house straight after breakfast, knowing full well that he would be in for an earful if Kyrano realised that he had been out running regardless of the man's attempts to get him to strengthen his ankle first. He couldn't help it, he had too much on his mind to stay around the house and constantly be asked if he was okay. If he was honest, Scott wasn't sure he knew the answer to that right now. Not considering that a thought which had been playing on his mind in an almost tantalising manner over the last few days had now firmly taken hold. He didn't want the others to be able to read that thought in his expression before he had a chance to explain.

"I'd just over-ride you."

"Can you do that?"

"Stop deflecting, Scott."

Hearing the long-suffering note in John's voice, Scott had to smirk. Virgil might know him too well, but he wasn't the only one. John knew full well why Scott would try and force the conversation down another route; he just didn't want the attention to be turned back onto him. Or rather, onto the fact that he had no idea whether International Rescue could continue given the way things were going.

"What do you want, John?"

There was almost a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line and Scott had to wince. Even to himself, he had sounded drawn and tired. For a man his age, with the lifestyle that he led, there was no way that Scott should have sounded like that.

"I want to know what is going on with you, big brother. I want to know why you are hiding in the one place that you know no one will follow you to because it hurts them too much. Which, to be honest, Scotty, is rather low."

"I'm fine, John, I just... I can't do it anymore." Scott hadn't meant for the words to escape him, yet all he could do was hope that because he had uttered them so quietly, John wouldn't have heard. He knew it was just wishful thinking: nothing escaped John's hearing, it was why he was their main Space Monitor in the first place. He could pick up distress even when it was being hidden.

"Can't do what?"

Scott had to hand it to him. John still sounded completely and utterly calm, and his brother realised that was what made him so great on rescues. If he was fazed by something, he didn't let it show. Scott, however, wasn't quite sure what he should say. Now that he had said it out loud, he knew the thoughts had been turning over in the back of his mind for a while. But somehow, he wasn't sure whether it should be John that he confessed it all to.

"Scott. What can't you do?"

Scott half-shrugged, kicking at a rock by his feet. John wouldn't have needed to see him in order to know what his brother was doing. Judging by the hiss of breath, John seemed to have realised what Scott was implying.

"International Rescue? That's what you can't do?"

"I can't be their Field Commander, John. I can't let them just go off, knowing that each movement they make out there could be their last. Yes, I know we all knew the risks when we signed up, don't try and quote that to me. But they argued the whole way out there over who would make Gordon proud. I shouldn't have let Virgil take the risk of going in Four when we weren't sure what was waiting for him. I should have done it! I should have stopped him, I should have noticed that something was wrong when he got back..."

"Scott, stop." John had once again heard Scott's slip. He was no longer talking about the rescue that they had just been on, regardless of the complications that had arisen. He was thinking of the rescue that had ultimately cost Gordon his life.

"No, John. I'm serious. I can't be the one that makes the decisions anymore. I sent him into that tunnel, I got him killed."

"And any of the others would have made the same call. You mean to say that you would be far happier to just sit back and let them fly to rescues without you there to guide them through it?"

"No. I will be far happier if they don't fly anywhere. The rest of the world thinks that we are all sponging off Dad's money, living a life of luxury whilst occasionally putting in an appearance at the offices to prove we are still alive. Why shouldn't we really live like that?"

"You'd get bored in a day." John knew that he was fighting a losing battle and cursed the fact that Scott had decided to have this conversation whilst he was stuck in space. If he was down there, he might be able to talk some sense into his brother, but having to only guess what was being said through Scott's body language as well as his words meant he couldn't quite work out just how serious the older man was about what he was saying.

"Maybe. But you guys would be safe. You'd be home, Johnny, you wouldn't have to spend months in space, stuck listening as we constantly put ourselves in danger."

"Damnit, Scott, don't do this," John muttered, knowing that his older brother was convincing himself more and more with each word he said that this was the right course of action.

Scott's eyes had returned to the ocean, but instead of calming him down, the motion of the waves was just making him more and more determined. He had promised their mother that he would look out for the boys, that he would keep them safe no matter what it took. The Hood had forced him to break that promise, yet Scott knew it was International Rescue that had put them all in the position in the first place.

"Sorry, John."

"I'm going to talk to Dad."

"You do that. It's not going to make me change my mind, you know." There was something almost calm in Scott's voice now. He had acknowledged the thought and he had voiced it out loud. Now that someone knew, he couldn't go back on the thought. He wouldn't back down on this, regardless of what the others said. No one could order him out there, and he knew his father's state of mind well enough at the moment to know that there was no way Jeff would let the others go without him. The boys might hate him but Scott knew if he held his ground, he would get his way. Better to have them hate him than being constantly put in danger.

Scott could hear the pause on the other end of the line, knew that John was trying to think of something to say in order to avoid the conversation that he knew he was about to have. Scott stayed quiet, though. He had meant what he said: nothing was going to change his mind.

After the silence stretched on for a long moment, John swore and abruptly disconnected.

"Sorry, kiddo," Scott muttered into thin air, his eyes once more resting on the waves. John was mistaken if he believed that Scott wanted to do this. But he had seen what had happened the day before, how he could have so easily lost Virgil if he wasn't as good at his job as he was. If Alan had won that argument, if he had insisted that he be the one to go, then Scott knew they would be another family member down. He couldn't live with that any more. It had been fine when they were all safe and joking about any disasters or near misses even if it was with a couple of bruises while doing so. But now Gordon had actually been killed, it was a whole different story. Six months later and they were still struggling. It couldn't happen again. Scott wouldn't _let_ it happen again.

How long he sat out on the beach for, he had no idea. It had to be at least midday by the time he knew that he should return to the house. Stretching out his legs and beginning to walk up the now familiar path, Scott took in a deep breath of fresh air. If he was lucky, it was just their father that John had spoken to. If he was unlucky, Alan would know. And if fate decided to really make him suffer, then _Virgil_ would know, and Scott was fully aware that there would be no escape from the artist when he found out what had been going through Scott's head. Or rather, what had been going through Scott's head that he had adamantly _not_ told Virgil about.

Fate, apparently, hated him.

The house was silent as Scott carefully let himself in, still not wanting to draw any attention to himself. He had left in a hurry that morning, so even if no one knew about the conversation he had just had with John, there would still be questions being asked that he didn't want to answer. His grandmother, for one, was a person he particularly wanted to avoid. He didn't want to say why he had only half-eaten his breakfast, why he had got out of the house before Alan had even got out of bed and then not returned for hours. Somehow, he just knew that she would fuss and he simply wasn't in the mood for it. It would be better if he could just avoid everyone until he had spoken to his father. He knew that John would have meant what he said, his brother would have contacted their father the second he had disconnected, no doubt worried about what was going through his brother's head. Scott took a few quiet yet swift steps through the kitchen, wondering if he could get away with it.

"Going somewhere, are we?"

"Friggin' hell, Virg..." Blowing out a breath in surprise, Scott turned even as he tried to ignore how hard his heart was pounding. All had seemed quiet, he hadn't expected anyone to be around. Not that Virgil was making himself obvious, instead just leaning against the wall in the corner, arms folded across his chest and a glare on his face. Inwardly groaning, Scott didn't need to ask what had put that expression there: Virgil had obviously heard from John. The artist pushed himself away from the wall, stalking towards Scott as he did so.

"But then again, it's not like we _are_ going anywhere. Not considering you have taken it upon yourself to ground us. Without asking what we thought about it first."

"Virg, it's not like that. I can explain..."

"Then shoot, Scott, because this isn't you."

It was only then that he realised Virgil had moved past him, now effectively blocking his way to the door. He could still get back outside, yet he knew that Virgil wasn't going to let him go that easily.

"How do you know? You can't read my mind, Virgil."

"Can't I? I know full well when you are hiding something from me, and you've been thinking this for at least two weeks, three days and four hours. Ever since you saw Alan wearing Gordon's old sweater when he and John were going through some of the readouts from earlier rescues. So don't you dare tell me that I don't know you."

Scott didn't even pretend to be surprised, but just rolled his eyes, ignoring the fact that Virgil had rather harshly poked him in the chest as he spoke.

"If you know that I've been thinking it for so long, why didn't you say something?" he muttered, making to try and push past his brother. Virgil simply grabbed hold of his arm and spun him back around.

"Because it was up to you to say something, you idiot! Not to mention I hoped that you would stop thinking like such a jerk and realise that the rest of the world needs us." The anger and frustration were obvious in both Virgil's voice and his eyes, and that simply caused Scott to shove him back. Did Virgil not realise that Scott needed them safe more than he needed the rest of the world to think that they were doing a good job? Somehow, he had a feeling that that argument would fall on deaf ears. He was not the only protective brother around, meaning that Virgil would have been thinking some of the same things as him. Yet unlike the Field Commander, Virgil was clearly quite happy to carry on risking everything. Scott, however, was not about to let that happen.

"And what about what I need, Virg? You say you know me so well, then you tell me this: when was the last time that I did something that I wanted and screw the rest of the world?" Despite his initial hope that he would be able to avoid facing the rest of the family, Scott knew that his voice had risen to a shout. Yet at the same time, it wasn't Virgil he was angry at. It was the whole situation. He should have known that his brother would be waiting for him, that he would have known what was going through Scott's mind even before his older brother had voiced it. But regardless of how determined he was that his brothers would no longer be putting themselves in danger, there was something troubling him. Scott knew how well Virgil knew him – and Virgil knew that Scott knew it. Meaning that they were both aware that if anyone was going to get him to change his mind, it would be the annoyed artist standing in front of him. Virgil's arms were once again folded across his chest as he glared at his brother.

"And this is what you want, is it? For us all to just sit here, live a nice playboy life and prove that the rest of the world were right about us? I know how much it annoyed you how they all viewed us, but it was okay because we knew differently. But now, this is what you want, is it, Scotty? To prove that they were right?"

"Yes." Scott's voice lowered, but he was quite proud of how it didn't waver in the slightest. It was the _last_ thing that he wanted, and John had been right when he said that Scott would get bored within a day. He was used to putting himself out there, being involved in the action. It was why he had joined the Air Force before realising that his father's dream was becoming a reality.

"Bullshit."

Scott closed his eyes with a groan, suddenly finding himself leaning against the counter with no real memory of how he had got there. Damn Virgil for being able to read him so well.

"It doesn't matter what I want," Scott muttered quietly, completely contradicting his earlier statement, but being truthful this time. "What matters is that you guys are safe. I won't go out there again and make a decision that could put your life in danger."

"It's not your call to make, Scott. Not on your own."

"It's my call whenever we are out there."

"Only because we trust you!" It was Virgil's turn to shout now, clear frustration obvious in his voice. "We wouldn't go and do what you say if we thought that you were being an idiot."

"I'm sorry, Virg. Really, I am. But even you won't change my mind on this, I want you guys safe." Scott moved forward, intending to brush past Virgil in order to make his way into the rest of the house. Scott knew what his brotherwas saying made sense, but that didn't mean that he was prepared to listen to it. He had made up his mind on this, and no matter what Virgil said, he was going to make sure he stood firm. If the rest of the family knew that even Virgil couldn't get him to change his mind, then maybe they wouldn't waste their time trying.

His brother wasn't apparently about to let him go that easily and grabbed Scott's arm, spinning him back around.

"Gordon wouldn't want you to give up!" he hissed, anger in his eyes.

But he had said the wrong thing. Scott reached up himself, grabbing the front of Virgil's shirt and violently shoving him back a few steps.

"Gordon gave his _life_ to make sure that we were safe. He died to protect us, Virgil. Don't pretend to think otherwise. I am not about to let that sacrifice be in vain by having you throw away your lives just so a complete stranger can live. Not this time. This time _I_ am being the selfish one. The world coped before us, it can cope again now, but damnit, I'm not losing any more of you!"

"Scott, you can't do this!" Virgil pushed at Scott's hand, but his brother wasn't prepared to let go just yet.

"Do you mean to say that you didn't feel your heart stop when you realised that if either Alan or I had taken Four yesterday, we wouldn't have lived?"

Virgil's hand fell back and he stared at his brother.

"That's what I thought. I know I'm not the only one wanting this, Virg. Maybe no, I don't want International Rescue to stop, and I don't want to be just sitting on an island my whole life. But in all reality, I don't particularly care. The rest of you would be safe and happy, John and Alan wouldn't have to spend half their time in space. You can't tell me that you would turn down the opportunity to have them home?"

"Scott, please. You say you don't want Gordon's sacrifice to be in vain. Yes, he would have wanted us safe. But he would have also wanted us to carry on, to not let the rest of the world suffer just because we are hurting."

Scott shook his head, pulling away and beginning to walk off, determined that he wasn't going to listen to Virgil's pleas. His brother would come around, he would see how much better things were when there wasn't constant threat of death hanging over them. But he didn't even reach the kitchen door before their father appeared.

"My office, now." His voice was low and weary, not the normal angry tone when the boys were being summoned to his office. Scott didn't argue, he simply changed direction. He had known from the second he had let slip to John what he was thinking that his father would act like this. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Virgil had taken a step forward.

"Not you, son."

"But..."

"Virgil, your grandmother is in the lounge, she heard you arguing. Go and play something to cheer her up, would you?" The note in Jeff's voice made it quite apparent that it was not a suggestion, yet Virgil still glared.

"I don't..."

"Go, Virg, please." There was something imploring in Scott's voice that stopped Virgil glaring. Scott just wanted this conversation out of the way, knowing that it was going to be awkward and painful for both him and his father. The longer Virgil protested, the longer the whole thing would be drawn out. Scott locked eyes with his little brother, an unspoken promise being sent out that he would keep Virgil informed of what was said. Now that the artist knew, Scott knew that it simply wouldn't be fair to keep him in the dark about what happened next. Virgil dropped his gaze, nodded and walked slowly from the room.

"Scott?"

Following his father, Scott slipped into the office and lowered himself into a chair. He had been in here for many reasons over the years, sat in this seat before many a conversation. Yet he wasn't sure if he had ever felt this nervous. He fidgeted as if he was nothing more than a boy as his father perched on the edge of the desk. It was clear that he didn't want to simply sit behind it considering what was going on.

"I just had an interesting conversation with John about you."

"I know," Scott muttered, looking at his hands. He was sure of his decision and the reason why he was doing it, so why did it feel like he was the one in the wrong?

"Is it true?"

Scott just mutely nodded, not sure how to voice what was going through his head. This had been his father's dream, and they had helped him achieve it. But now Scott wanted to bring it crashing down. He wasn't sure how the man was going to react to that. Six months ago, he would have been sure. But nothing seemed predictable with their family any more.

"I can see where you are coming from, son, I really can. The same thought did flicker across my mind a few months ago. But I'm not sure if we can stop."

"What?" Scott sat bolt upright, preparing himself to argue. He knew that his father would have thought about the future of IR, they had already been through one painful conversation shortly after Gordon's death. But for him to sound so dismissive of Scott's reasoning – for the pilot was more than aware of the fact that John would have told him everything – made Scott feel like he wasn't being taken seriously.

"This isn't about us anymore. So many people are involved, every agent is potentially putting their lives in danger by being in contact with us. And the world... The world has grown used to being saved. Would you really let countless people die knowing that you could have been the one to save them?"

"Yes! If I knew it meant that my brothers were safe. I know you feel this too, Dad, you've just admitted it. Why do we have to be the ones to save everyone?"

"Because of Gordon."

"International Rescue got Gordon _killed!"_ Scott was seething, wondering how his own father could be thinking about the bigger picture when he had lost a son.

"And if we stop it, then the Hood-" Jeff ignored the way his son violently flinched at the name, his hands clenching into fists, "-will have won."

"Dad!"

"Destroying us was all he ever wanted. If you let Gordon's death ruin the future for International Rescue, then he will have won. Are you prepared to show the man who destroyed your brother that he got what he wanted? He wanted you dead, Scott, but if IR stops, in his mind, he will have won. Quitting doesn't feel like the right thing to do, Scott. Gordon never was a quitter. Regardless of what the world threw at him, he would never give up. What kind of way to remember him is it to give up on everything that he helped build? If International Rescue continues, then Gordon lives on in the work you do."

Ignoring the way that tears were stinging his eyes, Scott found himself shaking his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could his father be just as terrified as he was that one of them would be killed out there, and yet still be able to carry on? Scott didn't understand it in the slightest, and wasn't sure whether he truly _wanted_ to be able to understand it.

But before he could say anything in response, the klaxon went off. Scott simply sat there and stared at his father for a long moment as the man stood up.

"Come on."

"No."

Jeff simply grabbed Scott by the arm and pulled him into the lounge, Virgil having already turned the room into the command centre of International Rescue. John's portrait was active, yet both brothers turned towards Scott as he was pulled in.

Shaking off his father's grip, Scott found himself in his normal position.

"Have you got a clear head, Scott?"

"You're really going to make us go out there considering what we've just spoken about?"

"It's not your decision, Scott!" Virgil yelled, breathing heavily as his father simply shot him a look. Alan skidded into the room, looking between his older brothers and father with wide eyes, but luckily didn't ask.

"Dad..."

"Enough, Scott. Even if I heed what you are saying, there are other things to be taken into account. International Rescue took years to set up. Even if we stop-"

"_What?"_ That told Alan all he needed to know, but whilst John shot him a sympathetic look, no one filled the youngest member of both the family and the organisation in. Instead, both Virgil and John seemed to be watching their father and oldest brother.

"Even if we stop, we can't just not turn up now. I'm not saying that this conversation is over, or that you have got your way. But neither am I saying that Virgil has got his way either. This team isn't just about you two, even if you are the most active in it. We need to discuss this properly, as a _family._ So let me ask you again, have you got your head on straight?"

"Yes, Sir." Scott's eyes were downcast, but his words were still as strong as ever. His father was right, they couldn't just not show up when someone had put in a call. But Scott was desperately trying to not let himself think like that. For he knew that once he did, he would never be able to stop with a clear conscience, knowing full well that he might have been able to save someone. Determinedly telling himself that it was his brothers he would be saving by not letting them go, Scott stayed quiet.

Jeff nodded approvingly, before turning to John.

"Go ahead."


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm so sorry about how late this is, real life firmly kicked in and proved to be troublesome. Should be back on track now though!_

* * *

The take-off went as effortlessly as usual, Scott barely even thinking about what he was doing as he brought his Thunderbird into flight and pointed her in the direction of the rescue. A forest fire on the outskirts of New Zealand was threatening to spread, and since they had lost so much to fires before, the authorities had decided to call in International Rescue before it got out of hand. Scott was convinced that this was going to be a nice, easy and straightforward rescue. Both he and Virgil had been called to scenes like this numerous times, and he was barely even needed in his role as Field Commander. Virgil knew what he was doing, and Scott knew that he knew it. Determined not to think about how that undermined his argument about the operation stopping if he refused to take control, Scott just focused on flying.

"She feels good, doesn't she?"

Virgil's voice over the intercom made Scott jump, and it was only thanks to years of practice that he didn't jolt the 'bird. Keeping a smooth course, he flicked on the vid-screen so that he was able to see his brother as well as hear him.

"What are you talking about?"

"One. She flies so smoothly in your hands, and you just love how at peace you can feel when flying the fastest piece of machinery known to man. So many people want to get their hands on her, and yet here she is, all yours."

"Virgil, what are you doing?" Scott had an uncomfortable feeling beginning to develop in the pit of his stomach at the way that Virgil was talking. It wasn't exactly a secret that they were all fiercely proud of their own 'birds and would spend hours debating why theirs was so much better than a brother's. So why was Virgil trying to point out just how good Scott was feeling right now? Not that he was going to admit to it, but Virgil did have a point. There was something relaxing about flying One, something that gave him a sense of purpose as he knew that he was on the way to help people.

"Just talking," Virgil responded with a shrug that did nothing to relieve the suspicious feeling that Scott was getting. "And just think of how fast you will get there, how swiftly you will be able to set up Mobile Control. All those people watching you, seeing you as the hero who is going to save everyone they care about. Of course, it's me that has to do the dirty work, but you do make a good poster boy, Scott."

Rolling his eyes, the pilot finally cottoned on to what it was Virgil was trying to do.

"You're not going to make me change my mind."

"Who said I was trying to? I'm just reminding you of how many lives you save when you take control of an otherwise impossible situation, how many people you have inspired to do better in their lives."

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the pep talk, Virg. I'm cutting the line." Not waiting for his brother's response, Scott lifted a gloved hand and flicked the button, causing the screen to go blank and muting Virgil's voice. He should have known that something like this would happen, it wasn't as if Virgil was accepting his arguments for stopping International Rescue. Scott had already thought about all the things that Virgil was saying, and yet had made his decision anyway. Sighing in the peace that overcame his cockpit, Scott shifted in his chair slightly.

"…and the amount of people who don't even try to sabotage things or even be idiots because they know that they will get caught out by the fierce pilot of Thunderbird One."

Scott jumped, this time not quite able to stop his 'bird from jerking slightly as he stared at the screen, active once more. Murmuring an apology to his girl as he straightened her out again, Scott disconnected Virgil without a word.

Only for the screen to flare back into life a split second later, his smirking brother looking back at him.

With a groan, Scott patched himself through to another brother.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Five."

"Hey, Scott."

"Why the hell are you overriding my communications?" Scott knew by the sharp intake of breath that accompanied his words that he had got it in one. Sometimes, being a genius meant that John was too easily caught out. Brains would be the only other person who would have the access and the know-how to stop Scott deactivating the screen, and there was no way that he would interfere, especially not on the way to a rescue.

"Blackmail, bro," John responded simply, and Scott could almost see the cringe cross his face as he did so. There weren't many occasions where one of them had something over John, and it was always interesting to see him squirm.

"I was saving it for a rainy day," Virgil chipped in, looking far too cheerful in Scott's opinion. His big brother knew why though. Virgil always knew the right things to say to get him thinking, and with no escape and not being able to simply turn him off, Scott would have to listen. And in listening to it, might start to believe some of what Virgil was saying. The smirk on Virgil's face made it more than apparent he was fully aware of all those facts.

"And I would say it was pouring right now, wouldn't you, Johnny?"

Scott rolled his eyes at the satisfied look on Virgil's face even as John glared. Part of him wanted to know what it was that Virgil had over John, but the other part of him really didn't care. When the two of them combined forces, especially against him, they were a team to be reckoned with. Scott knew that he was going to have to up his game in order to keep them in their places.

"You do know space has no weather, meaning I'm never going to have a rainy day?" John shot back, and Scott could already see Virgil opening his mouth to respond.

"Guys, stop it, we do have a rescue to get to." There was something very odd about watching the pair of them sniping at each other over a small screen in front of him. It was even stranger when he thought about the physical distance that was separating his brothers right now.

"Exactly, they need you to come in and save the day," Virgil said seriously, and Scott could only roll his eyes with a groan.

"John, I'm disconnecting Virgil. If you patch him back through, just remember that I know twice the amount of stuff about you that he does." Scott reached out a hand and cut through Virgil's protests, causing the screen to go blank. He held his breath for a few seconds and then sighed in relief when it stayed blank.

"You know he won't get me to change my mind right, John?"

"Can't fault a guy for trying."

Even on the small screen, Scott could see the way his brother shrugged. He jerked his head in something that might have resembled a nod and let his eyes flick back to his monitors. Not that he needed to look, he knew the feel of his 'bird more than anything else in the entire world, but it stopped him from having to keep eye contact with John. More than Virgil's words, the look on John's face had always been able to get through to Scott.

"Scott…"

"Don't you start, please, John. Now isn't the time or the place. Can you tell Base that I'm just reaching the accident zone, that I'll report in when I've got Mobile Control set up?"

"F.A.B."

John signed off, and once again, Scott was left alone. With an expert hand, he drew even closer to the scene, keeping his Thunderbird steady. He could have told Base that himself, but he wasn't sure how much he wanted to talk to his father right now, or to risk seeing the look on Alan's face. He had made his decision, they just had to accept that and stop trying to change his mind every five minutes.

It showed how often he had landed, for Scott knew that his mind was far more preoccupied than was strictly safe as he brought his 'bird into land. They had dealt with a forest fire here before, and the authorities had already cleared people from the area and set up a place where Scott would be able to set up Mobile Control. It took him no time at all to do so, and he had already received the low-down from the officials about the situation when Virgil made contact.

"Go ahead, Thunderbird Two."

"Is there space for me to land? I can't tell from up here." Scott glanced up, noticing that one of the men was listening in. He caught the man's eye and he nodded in confirmation that there was space.

"Affirmative, Thunderbird Two. Land and take the Firefly immediately to sector 7. If we can control it there, the rest should be easily handled by the locals," Scott ordered, glancing down at Mobile Control as he did so and making a quick calculation of the best place for Virgil to go. At least this time, he was sending his brother off in a piece of machinery that he knew how to handle rather than one that had almost got him killed like last time.

"F.A.B."

Virgil cut the line again, and Scott turned to what he did best. Organising the situation. The map that was showing on Mobile Control had different colours flashing depending on where they were and how bad the fires were, and it took the Field Commander no time at all to dispatch the local fire-fighting teams to one area and the few civilians who wanted to help to another. If they could put the little fires out that were beginning to spring up, it would leave him and Virgil free to tackle the big ones with their more sophisticated equipment. Securing Mobile Control and suiting up, Scott refused to think about how natural this all felt to him.

Heading towards where he had sent Virgil in order to help guide his brother, Scott found that both Virgil's and John's words were ringing in his mind. Neither of his brothers wanted him to give up, nor were they prepared to give up themselves. They had exactly the same reasons as him for not wanting to continue, all three of them having been left unconscious in the infirmary when Gordon had made his final move. Scott couldn't claim that they didn't know how he was feeling because it was a lie: they did. Yet they had been so prepared to continue, to keep going, that John had been happy to take himself back to the depths of space, isolated and alone, just to keep International Rescue going. Could Scott really compete against that or was he just trying to find excuses about why he didn't want to go out there? It just wasn't the same without Gordon's infectious enthusiasm and energy making them all strive to do better on a rescue. There was something missing, and Scott didn't like the feeling it left him with.

Shaking his head to clear it from the troubled thoughts, Scott forced his mind back onto the situation at hand and the fact that he had a rescue to run. And if it came almost as second nature for him to duck out of the way of a falling branch, extinguishing the fire that sprang up as it did so, then Scott wasn't going to tell anyone. Others would be able to take his place in saving the world, he didn't see why it had to be him any more.

The main problem, Scott realised an hour later when they had finally put out the last of the fires and the local authorities had sworn that they had the situation under control, was the adrenaline rush. He was buzzing, and knew by the spark in Virgil's eyes that his brother was feeling the same. He had chosen the Air Force because of that very reason. At the time, it had been the only option for him that would incorporate his need to fly along with the buzz of being out there and doing something. He knew that he wouldn't only get bored sitting at home, he would be restless. The rest of the family could all vouch for the fact that a restless Scott was not a good thing.

"You okay?"

The pair of them were leaning against Thunderbird Two, using her bulk to keep the sun off them and help cool them down. Scott glanced at Virgil out of the corner of his eye and sighed. His brother was smeared with soot and his hair was sticking unpleasantly to his forehead, yet he looked so alive. He was practically bouncing on his toes as he waited for Scott to answer, and his brother was reminded of the child who had received his first toy keyboard. Could he be the one to wipe that look off Virgil's face by refusing to allow rescues to continue? He said that he was trying to save the others by stopping International Rescue, but would he truly be doing that? Or would he be driving them all mad with boredom?

"I don't know." He found himself answering honestly before he could stop himself. Virgil smiled sympathetically and reached out a hand, clasping his brother's shoulder lightly. Scott offered him a terse smile in response, words unspoken shooting between them. Virgil's attempts on the way over were never going to get Scott to change his mind, the younger man must have realised that. But another successful rescue under their belts and the leftover adrenaline pumping through him and making him feel more vibrant and alive than ever, however, might.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up and head home," Virgil muttered, pushing himself away from his 'bird and stepping out into the sun once again. As he did so, something seemed to catch his eye and he frowned, tilting his head to one side. Scott glanced in the same direction, but couldn't see anything. As Virgil continued to stare, his older brother finally gave in and stepped out to join him.

"What's that?" Virgil muttered, pointing to a gap in the trees. Scott frowned, mirroring Virgil's actions by titling his head to one side and squinting through the trees.

"It looks like an abandoned building. Apparently there used to be warehouses and stuff out here, but the majority were pulled down and the forest took back over. It's why the fires are so much of a concern, there are gas pipes still around." Scott was hard pushed not to groan out loud as Virgil grinned.

"Want to explore?"

Scott made to protest, went to say something about the fact that they were on a job. But then he saw the look in Virgil's eye. If he truly wanted to stop operations, they wouldn't get chances like this for much longer. With that realisation, Scott suddenly thought about how he wouldn't have this time alone with Virgil in the same way, that there would constantly be another brother around demanding their , of course, they were all still there. Scott knew there would only be so long until someone needed space, and once one had gone, the whole family would just drift apart.

Feeling reckless, Scott nodded.

"Let's lock down here, make the uniforms less obvious first," he said, already beginning to walk away. Why shouldn't they go and have a bit of an exploration around the place? It was just a disused warehouse, but Scott had a feeling it would do more good for him and Virgil to break the rules slightly - perhaps for the last time - and walk around an empty building for an hour, than if he insisted that they stuck to the rules and went straight home. Even so, that didn't stop him from putting in a call to John as he walked back to One to make sure everything was secure, informing the space-monitor of they were doing. He might have been feeling reckless, but he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to lead Virgil into an unknown building without someone knowing where they were.

With John promising that he would put a spin on the tale and inform Base that they wanted to make sure the building was structurally sound, Scott locked down Mobile Control. Shrugging the top half of his uniform off, he let it hang casually around his waist even as he grabbed a couple of torches and headed back to Virgil. His younger brother had done exactly the same thing, meaning that someone would have to look twice in order to realise that two members of International Rescue were wandering around the place. There was no way that – if it was occupied – they had avoided detection due to the noise the rescue had caused. But hopefully they wouldn't be recognised as the operatives, but just two young men going for an explore. Handing Virgil one of the torches, Scott motioned for the younger man to lead the way, following Virgil through the forest towards the building.

As they got closer, Scott could see that he had been right about it being some sort of abandoned warehouse; the place was huge. Yet windows were smashed, doors boarded up and it looked like nature was beginning to claim it back for its own. Considering the way that there were vines climbing up the side of the wall and beginning to force their way through cracks, Scott couldn't help but be curious about how long it would take for the roof to come crashing down. He stopped, craning his head back in order to look at the ruined state of what would have once been a busy workplace, but Virgil had moved closer, examining the walls.

"Scott, come and look at this." The sheer confusion in Virgil's tone made Scott snap himself out of his musings and walk over. Virgil was studying a door, and with just a quick glance, Scott knew what he was looking at. All the other doors were old, half of them caved in through one thing or another. Yet this one was made out of strong metal, and looked as if it was still in working condition. There was also a strong padlock on the outside, and when Scott gripped the handle, it barely even rattled. Wiping away a patch on the next window, the Field Commander peered in.

"It looks like this corridor is set off from the rest of the building," he reported, twisting his head in order to get a better look. "You could see through all the other windows as well, you could see from here the way they linked together. This almost looks like a new part added onto the old building." Taking a step back, Scott craned his head up and looked up the side.

"Yes, it must be. The vines have taken over all of the old part, but look here, Virg… there is barely anything. This part has been added on." Both brothers simply looked at one another in astonishment. Who on earth would add a new part onto an abandoned warehouse. Scott had to groan at the look on Virgil's face. Judging by that expression, Virgil wanted to find out.

"There has to be a door the other end as well."

"What makes you say that?"

"This is locked from the outside, Scotty. Either no one is in there, or there has to be another way through." Scott didn't say anything for a moment, but pulled out one of Brains' devices from his pocket. It was like a GPS system, only far more sophisticated than that. Programming something into it, he nodded before stuffing it back again.

"There is a main road the other side of this building. I bet their main door leads out onto there and this is a back door. Although, looking at the state of it, I would say this was the original door but it didn't suit their purpose so they locked it shut and access this place from the other side."

"But who are _they_?" Virgil questioned, and Scott frowned. Something told him that he really didn't want to know the answer to that. It couldn't be for any good reason that someone had situated themselves out here, and Scott took a step backwards.

"I don't think we want to find out. C'mon, Virg, let's go."

He took another step back, turned, and froze when he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Virgil whipped around, and out of the corner of his eye, Scott could see his brother go for his own weapon. Letting one hand slide behind him, he tried to tell his brother no.

"Sorry, lads, look like you took a wrong turning." There was a man in military uniform standing in front of him and Scott blinked when he heard the American accent. This man was far from home, and Scott wondered for a moment whether their imaginations had been running wild and this was just a military base. Another figure emerged from the bushes, their gun trained on the two brothers, and Scott dismissed the idea when he saw that this man wasn't wearing a uniform of any sort.

"We're just leaving," Virgil muttered, and Scott could hear the tension in his brother's voice. Realising that Virgil was trying to make himself sound young and vulnerable, Scott played along.

"Yessir, we're just going. We were only exploring, you see. We took a wrong turning, and a locked-down building is always something that has been rather exciting…"

"Enough talk!" the first man snapped, gesturing for them to move away from the door whilst the second unlocked it. "I don't know who you are, who you think you are, but no one sees this place."

"We saw it," Virgil mumbled, sounding confused, and Scott groaned as he realised what the man was implying. The uniformed man shot him a smirk, clearly realising that Scott had figured it out.

"Okay, let me rephrase that. No one sees this place and gets out alive."

The person unlocking the door grabbed Virgil by the arm, pulling him inside. Scott leapt forward, intending to go to his brother's rescue, but was stopped as the first man moved swiftly in front of him, placing the gun in the centre of Scott's forehead.

"Behave!" he ordered and Scott knew that he had no choice but to let himself be pushed in after Virgil. He caught his brother's eye when he realised that the uniformed man hadn't followed them in, but was clearly staying on the outside to relock the door. Virgil nodded ever so softly, and the two brothers acted as if they were doing as they were told as the other man ushered them down the corridor. He barked something at them, and Scott rolled his eyes as he realised that he didn't understand a word. Where was John when they needed him?

They were led past a large room, the open door allowing them to glance in. Scott felt Virgil stop dead at his side, stiffening as he did so, and found that he was following his brother's gaze into the room. He swore under his breath when he saw what was within, but a gun poking him in the back caused him to carry on walking, pulling Virgil along with him. There had been a figure suspended by his wrists in the centre of the room, other people surrounding him and occasionally lashing out. Scott couldn't help but wonder whether he had just discovered the fate that lay in store for him and Virgil when the man opened another door. The brothers took a step inside, following the crazy gun gestures, but as soon as they did so, the door slammed shut and the lock could be heard catching.

"Great," Virgil muttered into the darkness, but Scott simply rolled his eyes, pulling out his torch and snapping it on.

"You okay?"

"Stop blinding me. Yes, you know I am, I've been with you the whole time."

Scott obligingly lowered the torch so that it wasn't pointing in Virgil's face, but then changed his mind and placed it on the floor, rummaging in his pocket as he did so.

"This is the last time I go exploring with you. Last time I fell in old Mrs Gregor's pond-"

"Dude, you were ten."

"- and this time I get locked up by some crazy person that doesn't speak English. Whatever next?"

Scott knew that Virgil had kicked out at the torch when the light went bouncing around the room, revealing that they were in a tiny cell. The Field Commander finally found what he was looking for, however, and pulled it out. His watch beeped, but Scott swiftly silenced it. He didn't know whether they were being monitored or not and didn't want to give away they still had contact with the outside world. Not to mention he didn't want John knowing _just_ yet the situation they had landed themselves in. He would call for help when it was obvious they needed it, not before.

"Aren't you supposed to, oh I don't know, stop me? You are my big brother…"

"Virgil, shut up."

"Why? If I want to rant, I can. Have you got a coin?"

"What?"

"Well, I'm not calling John and I know you're going to say the same thing. So we'll flip for who has to send out the call and be mocked for all eternity."

"We're not calling John."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm getting us out." That finally shut Virgil up and Scott had to admit that he was grateful when his brother picked up the torch and automatically held it steady for Scott.

"What's that?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure. It's a prototype from Brains, and he gave it to me saying something like making sure that even a locked door wouldn't stop me prevent me from running away from you."

"Oi."

"So let's see what he means."

Between the two of them, they somehow managed to work out what button they were supposed to press and managed to fix it to the door. Virgil moved closer, attempting to peer at what it was that Brains had made, but Scott grabbed his arm and hauled him back. Just in time as well, for a small bang echoed through their cell and the door started smoking. Kicking at it, Scott grinned as it simply swung open.

"It exploded the lock!" Virgil exclaimed in an awestruck voice, but Scott just grabbed his arm.

"You can have a play when we get out of here…"

"Scott." The urgency in Virgil's voice stopped Scott from speaking and he glanced back at his brother. Immediately, Scott could see what had drawn Virgil's attention. Two guards were walking down the far end of the corridor, dragging someone between them. Judging by the way the figure was slumped, seemingly unable to support his own weight, it was the man who had been tied up in the larger room. Staying motionless, the two brothers watched as another door was opened, the figure flung in before the door slammed shut and the guards walked off, laughing.

"He comes with us," Scott practically growled, and Virgil didn't argue. They moved swiftly down the corridor and Scott pulled out another device, making short work of the lock.

For a long moment, both brothers could only stare into the room, Scott feeling his heart pounding at a hundred miles per hour. The room was small and bare, but that wasn't what drew Scott's attention and made his breathing catch in his chest. It was the man slumped in the far corner that caused his stomach to be tied in knots. Virgil made a choked noise and moved forward, but Scott threw out an arm and caught him around the chest, holding him back.

"Don't. It could be dangerous, we don't know…" He couldn't finish his sentence, acutely aware of how much his voice was shaking as he took a step forward himself. For a moment, Virgil made to follow him but Scott rested his palm on his brother's chest, pushing him back.

"We have to know," Scott whispered, crouching down beside the huddled man. The figure flinched back, tucking himself into the corner and curling around his own body, clearly trying to protect himself. His eyes burning, Scott pulled out a swab, wiped it swiftly across a cut on the man's arm and drew back, breathing hard as he tried to process what was going through his head. Pulling out a device that looked almost like a phone, he fed the swab into it and hit the comms. To his delight, they could still get through. It didn't matter whether they were being monitored or not anymore. Nothing mattered but knowing the truth.

"John…"

"What the hell are you two doing? Dad keeps asking me whether you know the danger zone is secure or not yet. Why haven't you been answering me?"

"John, shut up. I'm sending you a blood sample, can you check it?"

The silence on the other end of the line voiced John's confusion far more than any words could, and Scott could hear him tapping away in the background. He glanced over his shoulder at Virgil, but his brother didn't notice, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the prisoner.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Scott wasn't sure whether he had ever heard John sound as harsh as he did in that moment, but the Field Commander didn't care. John didn't have to say it, his reaction was proof enough, yet Scott found himself asking anyway.

"Is it?"

"Yes. Scott, what-?"

This time, Scott wasn't quick enough as Virgil darted forward, but found that he didn't care.

"Don't ask, it's not possible, but… guess he always defied the odds," Scott murmured, knowing that John would know who was in front of them by the blood sample results in front of him. Yet tears burned in his eyes as he took a step towards the pair in the corner, slowly crouching down. He let one hand rest against the top of Virgil's back, feeling the younger man trembling under his touch. There was an unreadable expression on Virgil's face, yet Scott knew precisely what thought was going through his brother's head. It was exactly the same as his.

"Gordon," he whispered gently, stretching out a hand and brushing the longish hair back from the man's face. Immediately, the figure whimpered and curled up further, but there could be no denying it.

The missing Tracy had come back to them.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you so much for the great reactions, they completely made my day. Special thanks to Whirlgirl as I can't respond directly too you!_

_Hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and Happy New Year._

* * *

"Scott…"

"I know…"

"Scott…"

"Virg, I know…"

"Scott…"

Scott sighed, turning around to get a look at his brother. If he was honest, he could hear the same shock in Virgil's voice that was running through his own head right now, and he knew that unless he did something to calm Virgil down, the artist was going to completely freak. Not that Scott could blame him. They had spent six months mourning the loss of their brother, only to find him alive and… Alive, anyway. There was no way that Scott could say that Gordon was well.

He was dressed in grey, baggy clothing that hung off him and just illustrated even more how much weight he had lost. His hair had grown and was now hanging down into his eyes, which in turn had a sunken and haunted appearance to them. But whilst that was bad enough, what truly made Scott's blood boil was that the skin that was visible was marred with sores and wounds. Bruises and cuts, some half-healed, some fresh, littered his body and, unbidden, the image of seeing the people lashing out at a bound figure swam in Scott's mind, and he knew that it was Gordon they had been beating. Considering the way that Gordon was curled in on himself, jolting back from every attempt that Scott made to get closer to him, the big brother knew that this must have been going on for the entire length of time that they had believed Gordon to be dead.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Scott felt a flood of guilt so strong shoot through him that he almost stumbled back, thankful that the wall was there to support him. They had been sitting on an island, effectively feeling sorry for themselves for this whole time. They had believed Gordon to be dead and gone, and so had given up on him. Hell, if Scott had had his way, they wouldn't have flown out to this rescue. Yet the whole time he had been alive, suffering, and no doubt waiting for his brothers to come and get him out. Or worse, knowing that they believed him to be dead and therefore there would be no rescue. Scott couldn't imagine what it would have felt like for his little brother, locked up here knowing that no one would be looking for him because they thought he was dead. Scott felt like he should have known somehow, realised that there was a chance… He knew that had it been Virgil, he would have known one way or another whether the man was dead or alive.

Shaking his head, Scott pushed the thought aside, focusing on the matter at hand. Namely, how the hell was Gordon alive? They had taken Four out when they had found the boat missing and eventually located it, bobbing on the waves yet completely empty. There had been no sign of Gordon anywhere, and a pale Brains had admitted that the currents in that part of the ocean meant that he could have ended up anywhere. The whole family had scoured papers from the surrounding coastlines just in case anything had been washed up. Eventually, they had accepted that he had been put to rest in his beloved ocean, and that had been the end of that. Apparently, they couldn't have been more wrong, but how on earth Gordon would have gone from trying to drown himself to ending up in a place like this, Scott had no idea. He knew that they wouldn't be able to find out until Gordon told them. But one look at his brother meant that Scott knew it would be a while before he said anything.

Instead, the Field Commander turned his attention onto the other younger brother present, the one that he at least had a chance of helping. John had fallen silent and Scott knew that he had to get him home as soon as he could. No matter what he said, Scott was not going to let him stay up there on his own. Wondering if he should give John something to do in order to distract him, Scott sighed. What could he say? Ask John to tell Base that Gordon was alive? Scott knew how that would go down: John would be disconnected before he had the chance to explain. Glancing at Virgil, Scott knew that John would have to wait for now. As it was, they were still locked in a place that clearly had no qualms about hurting people, and Scott didn't just have one brother to get out of there anymore.

"Hey," he murmured softly, reaching forward and letting his hand curl around the back of Virgil's neck in a way that was so familiar to the two of them. Giving it a gentle squeeze, he exerted pressure and forced Virgil to look at him.

"I need you to focus, kid," Scott said with a hint of firmness in his voice, knowing that if Virgil freaked out now, his big brother won't be able to get him back again.

"But…"

"Virg. Look at me. Deep breath. I know, okay? The same thing is going through my head, yet I need you to be with me on this. We have got to get him home, and for that, I need you. Gordon needs you."

Virgil finally did as Scott asked and sucked in a slightly erratic breath before blowing it out again, clearly making the attempt to calm himself down. Smiling reassuringly, Scott squeezed his neck one last time and turned back to Gordon, knowing that Virgil was beginning to ground himself and therefore would be fine.

"Gordon? Gords, it's me. It's Scott. It's okay, kiddo, we've come to take you home. Everything is going to be okay…" Stretching out a hand towards his brother, Scott started as Gordon visibly recoiled, shrinking back on himself. The older brother shared a confused look with Virgil before moving in again.

"It's okay, buddy, I'm not going to hurt you. We just need to get you out of here, get you somewhere safe, you understand?"

"Scott, I don't think he…" Virgil never got the chance to finish his sentence before Gordon lashed out, driving his fist into Scott's stomach. The Field Commander barely felt it, it hadn't been a patch on Gordon's previous strength, but it caught him by surprise so much that he stumbled backwards, losing his footing and ending up sitting on the floor.

As soon as he was done, Gordon was up, heading towards the door.

"Virg…" Scott rasped, knowing that they couldn't let Gordon out into the corridor beyond. If attention was drawn to them, Scott knew that they wouldn't have a chance of getting out. Both he and Virgil might have been armed, but they knew from what they had already seen that they would be hopelesslyoutnumbered, and with needing to keep an eye on Gordon as well, Scott knew they would have no chance. They just had to hope that word had not yet spread about the fact that he and Virgil were even here, and that no one would think about checking on Gordon. Considering the state of his brother – even if he was now standing – escape wasn't exactly a possibility, especially considering his door had been locked.

"I'm on it," Virgil muttered tersely, his eyes calculating as he watched Gordon shrewdly. Whilst he by no means wanted to hurt his brother any more considering his physical appearance, Virgil found himself echoing his big brother's thoughts. Gordon couldn't be let out of the room, and with that in mind, the artist moved in front of the door, making sure Gordon would have to go through him in order to get out.

Gordon instantly froze, watching Virgil as closely as Virgil was watching him. It was obvious that he was waiting for something to happen, yet nothing did apart from Scott attempting to climb to his feet. From behind, Scott could see how violently Gordon was shaking and knew that it was taking every ounce of his brother's willpower not to collapse again. In a way, that made Scott smile softly to himself. It meant that there was still some sign that the Gordon they knew was in there, the one who would fight until the very end and beyond, even when everyone else had given up.

Finally seeming to realise that Virgil wasn't about to do anything, Gordon suddenly stumbled forward. Virgil kicked the door shut, making sure that his brother couldn't simply walk out of it, and stepped towards Gordon himself, his hands raised in a placating manner.

"Gordon, it's okay. It's us, it's your brothers…"

"I don't think he recognises us."

"That was what I was trying to tell you," Virgil snapped, taking a step back again as Gordon continued to advance. Without warning, Gordon swung at the artist. Whilst Virgil ducked the oncoming punch with ease, it was obvious that Gordon had realised that they weren't here to hurt him and had taken this moment to decide to fight back. Unfortunately for him, he was fighting back against the wrong people. As he swung again, Virgil caught his wrist in his own hand, wrapping his fingers around it.

Finally making it to his feet, Scott could see that there was no strength behind Virgil's grip, he was simply stopping Gordon from hitting him rather than making any attempt to properly restrain his brother. It was enough, however, for Gordon to freak out.

Instantly, he kicked out, pulling against the grip with all the force he could muster. Scott found that he was looking at the floor in sadness. Once, Gordon would have been able to pull away from Virgil. Although he was fighting back, small cries fell from the red-head's lips, sounds of distress almost pouring from him and tugging at both of his brothers' heartstrings. Virgil held onto him for a few moments more, but then it became apparent that Gordon wasn't going to give up struggling and that the artist couldn't take hearing him like this.

With one easy tug, Virgil spun Gordon into him. Keeping hold of his brother's wrist, he then took the other in his opposite hand, effectively wrapping his arms around the younger man in a strange sort of embrace, pinning Gordon back against his chest. Gordon's cries intensified as he tried to pull away, but Virgil held fast.

"Back pocket," he grunted at Scott, and the older brother immediately leapt forward, sliding his hand into Virgil's back pocket. He should have expected what was coming as he pulled a capped hypodermic needle out.

"Why?"

"One of the rescue victims was hysterical, I took it just in case. It's a mild sedative. I don't want to do it, but he isn't recognising us. I don't know how else we are going to get him out."

Scott nodded in agreement. He didn't want to cause his brother any more distress, but right now, he knew that they had to get Gordon out and deal with anything else later. Flicking the cap off, he took hold of Gordon's arm and swiftly pushed the sedative into his bloodstream. To say that it worked fast was almost an understatement. Virgil had to immediately bend his knees to take Gordon's weight as the younger man sagged. After a few moments, Gordon went completely limp. Lowering him to the floor, Virgil bit his lip.

"He's so messed up. It shouldn't have worked that fast. It means that he is incredibly weak…"

"He's still fighting though, meaning he is still our Gordon." Scott knew that they couldn't waste any more time. They had spent long enough in Gordon's cell as it was, they had to move. Bending forward, he swiftly picked up his unconscious brother and draped him over his shoulder. It was hard to feel just how light Gordon was, and how his ribs seemed to be sticking out in a way that Scott had never felt before. Virgil was right, Gordon was a mess.

"After you."

Virgil cast worried eyes over Gordon, but obliged and headed for the door. Scott could see by the awkward angle of his brother's arm that Virgil had his hand resting on his gun and he had to admit that thought made him feel safer. Virgil had already lost Gordon once, he was not going to let him go for a second time. Indeed, if his own hands weren't full of said brother, Scott would have had his own weapon in his hand and the notion of "shoot first, ask questions later," in his head. No one reduced his brother to this…

"Not now, Scotty."

Hearing Virgil's mutter, Scott blinked and realised that some of his thoughts must have shown on his face. He gave a swift nod and followed Virgil out into the cold corridor beyond, automatically glancing around as he did so. Virgil didn't seem to hesitate, but started walking back in the direction that they had been led in from.

"Wait…" Scott hissed. Virgil turned to face him, and his big brother jerked his head in the opposite way.

"What?"

"This way. You saw him go back and lock the door from the outside. There has to be another way out, and if our thoughts earlier about the main road were right, it means that it will be this way."

Virgil didn't even say anything in response, he just changed direction, walked back past Scott and continued down the other way. Virgil found that his finger was drifting to his watch as he moved. If there were people here, then surely the fact that International Rescue was in the area would have been noted? There were enough security cameras on board the 'birds to keep track of what was going on. Virgil thought about asking John to check the monitors to see if there would be any unexpected surprises waiting for them. He knew he should have checked before, but his mind had been all over the place. But something stayed his hand.

Scott followed in silence, focusing on making sure that Gordon was secure and not being hurt any more by the position that he was being held in. It was Scott's silence that made Virgil hesitate. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves, not when the only thing that truly mattered was getting Gordon out of here. More than once, the sound of voices came floating down the corridor and Virgil would motion off to one side, causing them to dart into the first room that they came across in order to hide. They were lucky though, the voices simply passed them by. They simply didn't seem to know or even care that there were prisoners in the building, or if they did know, seemed to think that they had nothing to worry about. The thought that they believed they had defeated Gordon made Scott snarl and it was only Virgil's warning glance and the fact that Gordon was over his shoulder that stopped him from leaping out and letting his fists do the talking for him.

Eventually, however, they managed to stumble their way through the twisting and turning corridors. How they didn't get lost, Scott had no idea, but it seemed fate was on their side for once and was assisting them in getting their brother to safety. The worst moment was when Virgil sneezed at the very moment one of their captors was walking past, but no mishaps befell the brothers until they were standing at the sturdy looking door. It looked stronger than the one they had entered through and clearly had more use. There was a very solid bolt drawn across the top, but that appeared to be all. Even so, Scott noticed the way that Virgil's hand was shaking slightly as he drew it back, and he had to lean his full weight on the door to get it to creak open slowly.

Brilliant sunlight flooded through the gap and both brothers forced their way outside. Scott hadn't realised how dull it had been inside until he felt his eyes adapting to the outside light and was just thankful that Gordon was unconscious. If it felt bright to him after only a few hours, he didn't want to know how it would feel for his brother after spending six months in that place.

"Scott…"

The older brother had just hoisted Gordon into a more secure position when he heard the note in Virgil's voice. Turning, he saw that the artist's face was pale and he was staring back into the corridor they had just escaped from. Shifting himself so that he could see for himself, Scott groaned. They had made it so far, yet right now, someone was staring straight back at them, anger beginning to take over their expression when they saw Gordon.

"Run!" Virgil slammed the door shut as best as he could, an added rush of adrenaline meaning the task was far easier than it had been getting the door open in the first place. Scott wasn't used to taking orders from his little brother, but this time, he didn't even hesitate. There was no time to argue, no time for him to demand that Virgil went first where Scott could see him. If he wanted to get Gordon out, he had to trust Virgil.

"Cover me!" he yelled, already beginning to run. It was hard going, however. Gordon might have lost a significant amount of weight, but he was still pressing down on Scott, still making it hard for him to run as fast as he would like.

They had only been fleeing for a few moments before the sound of gunshots cracked through the air.

"Seems they aren't letting us go that easily," Virgil muttered, his face strained in concentration as he whipped his own gun into his hand, easily keeping pace with his brothers. He couldn't see anyone through the trees, but when more shots sounded and a spray of bullets only narrowly missed his feet, he fired off a return volley. For a moment, there was a blessed silence.

"Get to the road," Scott grunted, redoubling his efforts to get his brothers away from here.

"We'll have no cover though, we should stick to the trees."

"If they are as secretive as we think, I don't think they will risk following us. See if you can get onto John and find out where we are and what we are dealing with. Better yet, see if there is anything he can do to slow them down."

"F.A.B."

Scott knew that this wasn't just any old rescue, not when the stakes were so high. But the fact that they were treating it like one made things so much easier, allowing him to clear his mind and focus on what needed to be done. He could hear Virgil murmuring to John, and whilst he wasn't sure what his space-bound brother would be able to do, it meant that both of them had their minds on other things rather than the fact that Gordon was alive and had been for this whole time. He himself began steering them to where he was sure the road was, steadily putting one foot in front of the other and making sure that he kept his pace steady and constant. He just hoped this worked, for if the men did follow them out, Virgil was right, there was no cover out here.

The trees seemed to stretch on forever. It seemed as if there would be no way out of the woodswhen their pursuers started firing again, sounding worryingly closer this time. Neither Scott nor Virgil said anything, they just glanced at each other and once again resumed their frantic dash as they tried to make it to the road. In a way, Scott wasn't really looking where he was going, but instead just putting one foot in front of the other. It meant that it came as something of a surprise as the unstable ground of the forest turned into smooth concrete and running suddenly became so much easier. There was one last round of shots from the men behind them and Scott thought that his heart would stop when he heard Virgil hissing in pain. Turning wildly – almost losing his grip on Gordon as he did so – Scott cursed when he saw the artist clutching his arm.

"S'okay, just a scratch, one grazed past me," Virgil muttered through gritted teeth. Never one to trust his brothers about their own health, Scott took a step forward, his eyes narrowing in concern. Virgil pulled away his hand at the same time, and his big brother sighed in relief at seeing that he had been telling the truth for once. Although there was a line across his arm, it was only bleeding lightly, the bullet having whizzed past him.

"That was too close."

"Yeah. But seems that you were right, big brother. They've stopped. They haven't followed us out onto the road."

"I'll believe that when we are back in Two. Come on, let's go home."

TBTBTB

The pair walked for what felt like forever, even though their initial journey to the building had only been a few moments. Scott knew it couldn't have taken them that long to get back in all reality, it just felt longer. It was only Brains' tracking devices that made Scott keep going rather than giving up and thinking that they were lost. Gordon didn't so much as stir throughout the whole journey and Virgil was looking graver and graver with each step that they took. Scott didn't know what he could do or say in order to help either of his brothers, so just focused on getting them back. He was worried about approaching the 'birds, not being sure if there would have been someone waiting for them.

Finally, however, the great green hulk of Thunderbird Two came into view and both brothers shared a collective sigh of relief. They were still on their own. Luck had decided to re-join their side. Scott wasn't sure if they had just miraculously passed unnoticed or whether their captors were too busy trying to find them that they didn't think of looking here. As Virgil unlocked his 'bird, Scott found that he was glancing around. Despite the fact that the two machines were still here, everyone who had been present for the rescue had gone, something that he was more than thankful about. Ducking into the coolness of Two, Scott let out a long breath. He thought it had been a relief when they had made it back to the Thunderbirds, but the rush that shot through him at hearing the door shut behind him and knowing that no one had a hope in hell of being able to get in without their permission finally allowed his adrenaline-pumped mind to acknowledge the fact that they had truly escaped.

And they had found Gordon.

A wave of weariness threatened to pass over him and he could already see Virgil sagging against the wall. They were used to patching their brothers up after a bad rescue, but never before had they had to bring one back from the dead. Scott knew that if he should stop, that would be it, so forced his now aching legs to move once again until he reached the sickbay. His movement seemed to bring Virgil back into reality and he hurried after them, pushing Scott away the moment that he rested Gordon down on the bed. Picking up one of Gordon's hands, Virgil's breath stuttered dramatically as a deep welt was revealed, encircling their brother's wrist from where he had clearly been restrained. Closing his eyes, Scott took the hand from Virgil and gently rested it back on the bed before pulling the team medic away.

Virgil looked as if he was going to fight against Scott, to do anything that he could to get back to Gordon, but when the older brother simply wrapped his arms around his shoulders, Virgil sagged. Letting his head rest against his big brother's chest in a way that he hadn't done for years, Virgil relied on Scott to hold him up, hoping that his brother could once again make it better. For his part, Scott could feel Virgil shaking and let his hand rub soothing circles on his back.

"We got him out," he murmured, his voice thick and heavy with emotion. "No matter what happens now, we've got him out, we've got him back. And very soon, we are going to get him home, back to where he belongs."

He couldn't honestly say that everything was going to be okay. Gordon was so weak, it was going to be a fight to keep him alive, especially if the red-head realised that he was safe and therefore let the adrenaline ebb away. Shifting his head slightly until he had his chin resting on Virgil's head, Scott frowned as he stared down at his motionless brother. A few hours ago, he had been prepared to not even come out here because of Gordon's death. The idea that Gordon would still be stuck here if it hadn't been for Virgil's determination that they were going to go was something that the pilot couldn't yet get his head around.

After a moment or two, Virgil stiffened and pulled away, and Scott let him go. There was exhaustion set in Virgil's face from where the overwhelming emotions were getting the better of him, yet his eyes were blazing once more.

"Your arm first," Scott stated firmly, knowing that his brother wouldn't even be feeling it on top of everything else. Whilst he knew that it was just a scratch, Scott wanted to make sure that everything was okay. Not to mention that he wouldn't truly be able to help with Gordon, his medical knowledge not even being a patch on Virgil's. By making sure that he sorted out Virgil's cut first, it gave him a way of helping his little brother. Virgil seemed to see in Scott's face that this was something that he _needed_ to do, so for once didn't protest, but pulled down the basic medical kit.

Scott took it from him and nudged Virgil down onto the other bed, ignoring the way that the artist's eyes didn't leave Gordon. Their uniforms were still rolled down, meaning that whilst Virgil's arm had been offered no protection from the flying bullets, Scott didn't have to tease any material away from the wound. Instead, he just pulled out the antiseptic and cleaned it as gently as he could, almost having to smile at Virgil's intake of breath that sounded more like a hiss than anything else. For someone who was so keen to patch up the rest of the family, Virgil had never been much good at looking after himself. Satisfied that it was clean, Scott then proceeded to wrap a light bandage around his brother's upper arm, ignoring the look of incredulity that Virgil shot him, clearly believing that that was taking it too far.

But eventually, Scott had to admit that his brother was fine. Silence fell between the two of them as they turned back to Gordon's bed, Scott swallowing hard. It had taken him five minutes to sort out a simple scratch. How on earth did they begin to fix the mess that was Gordon's body? Virgil took a deep breath, and when Scott glanced at him, he had to smile. There was a calculating expression on the younger man's face, and whilst Scott realised that he had no idea where to start, Virgil was working out precisely that. After a few moments of intense studying, Virgil nodded to himself and moved forward.

Not wanting to get in the way, Scott simply stood there, watching as Virgil swiftly and expertly began to set up an IV line and attached it to Gordon.

"The state of him externally is the least of our worries. We have to make sure that we get some hydration and nutrients back into him, and fast. Yet we can't flood his system, he'll rebel against it. I'll start him off on the drip, means that I can push through some basic antibiotics and pain relief as well. The antibiotics won't do much if an infection of any sort has taken hold, but it will stop anything else making itself known…"

Scott nodded, glad that Virgil was filling him in on everything that he was doing rather than just leaving him standing there.

"What can I do?" he asked, hating the fact that he could only watch.

"Hand me the medical packet from the locker above your head," Virgil muttered, not even looking up. Scott could see by the set of his brother's shoulders that this was possibly going to be an even bigger challenge than he was used to, and that including having to fight to save Scott's life after he had been stabbed. This was dealing with numerous injuries, any of which could be life-threatening. They might have got Gordon out, but they hadn't yet saved him.

"Scott?"

Realising that he hadn't even moved despite what Virgil had asked of him, Scott blinked, smiling sheepishly and turning to get what his brother wanted. Virgil, however, shook his head and moved closer, taking Scott by the arm and pushing him towards the door.

"You're no good to me like this, so I've got another job for you."

"What?" Anything that would mean he could help in some way was fine by Scott. Virgil, however, shot him a rueful grin, a smirk playing across his face that made Scott feel like he wasn't about to like whatever came out of Virgil's mouth next.

"You get to call Dad. Now. I need to speak to Brains, and I'm not doing that before Dad knows. Please, Scott, tell him?"

As he was pushed out of the sick bay and the door closed silently behind him, Scott realised that Virgil hadn't been asking him. He had been telling him. And if he needed medical advice that could be used to help save Gordon's life, then there was no way that Scott was about to hesitate.

Heading straight into the cockpit, he flopped in Virgil's usual chair and sighed, his finger hovering over the button that would connect him through to the island.

Why did he get the feeling that this would be the hardest conversation that he would ever have with his father?


End file.
